


Changing Circumstances

by EclipseWing



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Hogwarts Era, Humor, Season 7 AU, Team Free Will, Team Free Will (and those reluctantly dragged along) go to Hogwarts, They're basically all thought to be insane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-09 21:45:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 71,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1151147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EclipseWing/pseuds/EclipseWing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post 7.17 The Born Again Identity</p><p>As a reward from God (who may or may not be drunk) Team Free Will (and those reluctantly dragged along) end up attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.</p><p>Madness ensures. </p><p>(In which Dean and Meg have a weird fascination with Hell, Crowley starts an underground black market, Gabriel has it out for Snape, Sam makes a female friend who doesn't die, Castiel watches Lord of the Rings, Adam gets out of the cage and Jo is the only sane one around.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. They Just Don’t Get It (Do They?) (Adam)

**Author's Note:**

> This can also be found on my FFNet Profile of the same name. It started out basically as an exploration of the Supernatural character's fears, turned into a giant opportunity to list my favourite quotes and ended up being a long slightly (very) crack-ish fic wherein the Supernatural gang attend Hogwarts.

**Chapter 1: We’re the ones you should be afraid of…**

Adam leaned back against his girlfriend’s leg. Jo was sitting on the table, while he was sprawled across the floor next to Gabriel and Dean. The pair were discussing the benefits of magical plants, which he zoned out of, watching the activity across the hall.

He’d never thought life could be like this. He’d never thought he’d ever get out of the cage, even as broken as he was. According to the others who looked equally out of place in the house in England (“This isn’t a house, this is a mansion!”), they had been ‘zapped’ there by God regardless of their statuses of dead or alive to lay low from the monsters stalking America called ‘Leviathans’ or something.

In the interim, they were to provide entertainment, and as eleven year olds, were instructed to go to magic school. ‘Call it a holiday if you will’.

The fact that his brothers couldn’t even summon up the will to be surprised spoke volumes for how weird their life was.

It had been difficult initially. Meg and Crowley for instance, did not get along. Crowley didn’t get along with anyone for that matter, and seemed to have a grudge against Castiel. Jo herself held the demon with suspicious regard due to the influence he had in her death. Crowley had to reduce himself to being drinking buddies (which apparently wasn’t okay for eleven year olds so they had to get the archangel to magic it up) with Gabriel, who he got along surprisingly well with.

Meg was actually quite nice for a demon, once Jo and Ellen got over her huge role in their death. Gabriel was a nuisance, the exact opposite of his brother, who was a timid thing that liked to stalk Dean around. It made Adam relieved that he didn’t have to deal with Michael any more.

Sam had initially been pissed that Dean was once against taller than him, but this year, finally hitting eighteen; he’d been comfortably that inch taller. Adam just rolled his eyes at the behaviour. The two of them acted like the twins they were supposed to be, while Adam was the nine month younger brother (and didn’t that spread rumours).

Bobby and Ellen were just relieved not to be eleven again, let alone go to a magic school. They had designated role as ‘parents’. According to the cover story, Sam, Dean and Adam were Bobby’s kids from his previous marriage and Jo was likewise for Ellen. Cass and Gabe were brothers, cousins to Bobby’s sister in law or some obscure relation like that. Crowley, much to his distaste, was a street kid that had been picked up while Meg got the joy of being Ellen’s god child. It was a weird, dysfunctional family, but they made it work out.

Hogwarts was a weirdness they slotted into surprisingly well. The idea of the houses had not gone down well initially, especially when Sam and Dean had ended up in the blue and yellow houses respectively. Considering that twins usually ended up in the same house (Sam and Dean were posing as twins) it was an oddity for the magical people to ponder over (and Sam and Dean to overcome as they snuck into each other’s rooms as if they were secret lovers or something).

Nobody bothered to mention that Dean was four years older. Or that Adam was eleven years younger. Or that two of them were demons, two were angels, two were supposed to be dead and the other two had both died so many times it wasn’t even funny anymore. Except it really sort of was.

The houses were kind of fun, Adam mused, glancing at Jo and once again thanking God that he had gotten a chance to know her. The pair were the only Gryffindors, although Dean had admitted once that he had almost ended up there before the hat had discovered his Hell deal and reluctance to believe Cass had worked with Crowley. Somehow the talking fabric had decided those actions put Dean in the loyal house with Meg (devoted servant to Lucifer or whatever her cause may be) and Castiel (always happy to bleed for the Winchesters, his faith unyielding) instead of the recklessly stupid and brave house.

Personally Adam imagined that the hat had realised that leaving Castiel with Meg wasn’t the best thing without an intervention, but he could never prove it.

Sam had ended up the only one in the brainy house, while Gabriel and Crowley went to the green snakes. “That must be the house for dicks,” Dean had looked happy, and made a pair of red-headed twins at the Gryffindor table laugh hysterically for ten minutes straight.

The Team had almost made it through their Witness Protection scheme. Learning magic had been fun and all, but it was still school. Sam and Meg’s perusals of the library had found no method to gank Leviathans, bringing them up blank. Dean, Cass and Gabriel had snuck into the restricted section and found a book which showed them a way to ward against them, and was looking promising before the barmy head teacher had confiscated it on the grounds of it being ‘too dark for children like you’.

Adam had wanted to tell him about hell and the cage, and judging by Dean and Jo’s faces they wanted to do the same.

Nonetheless they had survived their time here, between moving staircases and talking pictures and Sam almost beheading a peaceful visiting vampire. They’d also managed to hide Crowley and Meg’s status as demons, Castiel and Gabriel’s angel-ness and the last four’s knowledge of how to kill various nefarious supernatural beings.

“They don’t believe in demons,” Dean had stopped over at the snake table (he never bothered to learn the names) sometime in their fifth year. Finally deciding he was old enough to be perusing dark creatures he had asked the eccentric auror some questions only to be met with negatives. “Apparently they aren’t real,” he sneered, “And I asked about Hell and dark magic, and where it must come from if it doesn’t come from demons and Hell. And you know what he did? He laughed and told me it came from our own evil intentions. So I told him he didn’t know what he was talking about.”

Crowley had equal problems with the Care of Magical Creatures class when he tried to explain about his pet hell hound which had somehow followed him across continents. Sam and Dean had verified for it. “Growly was right there.” He explained to the Team, when they were gathered at the Hufflepuff table. They switched tables ever meal, much to the annoyance of other students who didn’t seem to approve of their mingled house group. For that matter the teachers didn’t either, and had encouraged them to seek friends from beyond their family. That then prompted a strangling match between Meg and Crowley with various insults no twelve year old should know being thrown around. The pair ended up with a month of cleaning out cauldrons.

“So I pat Growly and show the class. Only one kid actually can see him. Here I thought wizards were meant to be special,” Crowley had sneered.

Where Meg and Crowley got detentions for being cruel and to sassy for the professors, Gabriel managed to get into pure trouble with pranks. He had refused an offered alliance from the red-headed twins, going it as a lone sneaky Slytherin Trickster. His just-desserts were notorious, and naturally the greasy-haired potions teacher was the most targeted.

Sam and Dean got in trouble for the way they reacted to threats. The jumpy pair regularly were relieved of their knives and guns yet despite this they somehow managed to keep them, despite the magically locked drawer (no match for Gabriel or a decent lock pick). They were famous for barely being at school two months before burning the bones of Professor Binns. Needless to say the other ghosts were terrified of them and Peeves wouldn’t go within a hundred yards of them (it was rumoured they carried salt on them).

“I can’t believe these people don’t even know ghosts are hurt by salt and iron,” Jo had ranted about the terrible teaching. In comparison to the terrible two, the Trickster or the demons, Jo, Adam and Castiel were the perfect students. They had been advised to switch friends more than once but even if Adam knew others in his house, such as that busy haired know-it-all or the famous Potter in the year below him, nobody else really understood about his situation.

Currently they were in their final year. Crowley and Meg were flicking balls of paper at each other like three year olds, while Sam was trying to read his book. They were patiently waiting for their turn to be called forwards, to ‘face their fear’ or whatever the point of the session was.

At the front of the hall was a chest, old and heavy wood. It was open, and from it black smoke had poured out. Dean had automatically reached for the demon-killing knife and Meg and Crowley had inched away from him. Then the smoke had condensed into a clown and the person standing up to it had looked frightened.

“See,” Dean had told Sam, “You’re not the only one scared of clowns.”

One by one they would be called up there to face their fear. They would have to stand there for a length of time before being allowed to banish it. The clown tripped and squirted himself with water and the dark haired Potter kid motioned the next person forwards. He was running this whole thing, due to his ‘experience’ with dark magic.

The Team had found that hilarious, even if they did sympathise with him.

“Winchester, Adam,” Granger called, and he patted Jo on the leg before standing up and walking forwards. He felt a stab of pride at the name, even if it did feel like a betrayal to his mom.

The thought of his mom must have influenced the monster, as it shimmered into the blonde Kate Milligan, dead, bleeding with sightless, ghoul-like eyes. Adam flinched. He heard other students varying murmurs and shocked gasps.

They were in for a surprise. After sharks, clowns and mummies the next few were going to be a hell of a lot darker.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> 

The session had started well enough, Harry mused, watching the zombie the seventh year was facing. He’d arranged all this with the DA’s help after Dumbledore had asked him to give some training to the other students. This session Remus had inspired with his famous boggart lesson back from third year, was all about understanding what you were scared of to be able to overcome it.

He had gone first with his dementor boggart. He’d turned it into a white sheet with black marker eyes: the kind you’d find as a cheap costume for Halloween. They had then cycled up through the fifth years and sixth years, before finally starting on the sevenths.

He recognised the guy standing up now as a Gryffindor, a year above him. People were scattered around the Great Hall, sitting and watching, with the sole exception of a group to the far left. Even Malfoy was watching with his goons, sniggering at the fears that had appeared. He seemed to have taken a break from vanishing from the castle, and Harry was relieved he could keep an eye on him.

The group not watching were the weird, mixed house group. Hermione knew the two Gryffindors – the blonde girl and boy: Jo Harvelle and Adam Winchester. Apparently only the Winchesters and Novaks were actually related, and the rest were adopted. Harry would have thought that living together would have made them stay as far away as possible during school, but instead it was quite the opposite. The group stuck together like glue.

It was a mismatch of characters. The two Gryffindors were quite decent, and Harry had spoken to them before. He’d only heard about the others and occasionally seen them around. Last year during a DA meeting, him, Hermione, Ron and Ginny had arrived early to discover they were already camping out at the Room of Requirement, chatting about angels and Heaven of all things. Upon realising they had visitors the group had cleared out of there.

The one at the front with the zombie – Adam – was looking pointedly at a point beyond the woman’s corpse. He seemed to be coping – his boggart was a bit darker than the rest of the students, but not unusual. Already one girl had to face an inferi.

He watched with mild interest as the boggart grinned at Winchester, before digging her fingers into her own neck. Harry winced and several students gasped as they came away bloody. Slowly, the boggart brought her fingers to her lips, tongue coming out to flick at the red droplets as she sucked every one clean.

Adam seemed actually kind of relieved, as if he had been expecting something else. “Time!” Harry called. Most people now chose to force the boggart to change form, but Adam just strolled away, leaving the corpse standing there staring after him.

Hermione looked down the list. The next person signed up to the session was read out, clearly. “Harvelle, Jo.” She called.

Harry watched as Adam exchanged smiles with the girl. The pair had been dating since last year, something which the guy’s brothers had found funny for some reason. Jo had hit them in the Great Hall, sending them off to their respective tables still cackling madly.

She strolled up now, confident and head held high like a true Gryffindor. The corpse flickered, before changing, morphing into a new shape.

A slavering dog stood there, standing about waist height, slavering jaws and silver fangs. It’s flesh was peeling off, black and oozing pus and blood. Spikes ran along the length of its spine.

“There’s nothing there,” Harry heard one of the students complain. He glanced at Ron who shook his head.

“Nothing there mate,” the red-head shrugged. “So what… is she not scared of anything?”

“There’s a dog.” Harry whispered back. “A great ugly dog... It…” he fell silent then, for the dog had thrown back its head in a howl. Simultaneously there was the sound of books tumbling over, and people looked over to where one of Adam’s brothers had reacted to the sound, a knife clutched in his hand.

A creepy Slytherin and brunette Hufflepuff shot him condensing looks and he shrugged sheepishly.

Back at the front Jo was trembling as the dog… hound, Harry’s mind provided, stalked around her. “I think it’s like the Threstrals,” Harry told Ron. “But I don’t know what it is.”

“Is that…” someone in the crowd muttered, “Is that a hell hound?”

At that Jo looked around sharply, confirming the question, and the hound chose that moment to howl again. She stayed where she way, unflinching.

“Okay,” Harry called, realising the point of the exercise had been achieved. Merlin, these kids were brave when faced with their worst fears, and especially when their worst fears were this dark. “Next.”

Unlike Adam who had walked away, Jo grabbed her wand and pointed it at the beast. A shot rang out; reminding Harry of gunshot and the beast slumped, black blood splashing down.

Jo turned around, smirking triumphantly at her friends. “Keep that pet of yours out of my way demon,” she snapped at the creepy Slytherin (Harry thought his name was Crowley). She said it with the tone of one who had spoken to him about this before, but it lacked the malice it might once have held.

Crowley stood to meet her, strolling past her. “Stay away from my dog,” he threatened her, walking towards the Boggart unasked. Hermione shot Harry a helpless look at he shrugged.

The dead dog faded to black smoke as he reached the front, turning into a pile of brown… Harry peered at the new form. Were those bones?

There was a guffaw from the table Team Free Will (it was a weird name, but Adam’s brother had insisted upon it, whereupon it had been renamed to ‘Team Free Will and those reluctantly dragged along’). Harry looked at them. Adam’s one brother – the Hufflepuff who he thought was called Dean was grinning along with the Slytherin Novak. Harry remembered he was called Gabriel, and got into as much trouble as the twins with pranks.

The brunette girl was wincing in sympathy as the boggart bones burst into flames. Next to her another Hufflepuff looked mildly guilty – Novak’s brother with the funny name.

Standing at the front Crowley looked uncomfortable, but didn’t show much other emotion. Satisfied, Harry nodded him down. He left pretty quickly though.

Hermione perused her list. “Novak, Castiel.” She called. Harry wasn’t sure why she insisted on the surnames first, but it helped to identify the person as the Hufflepuff uncurled himself from the table and walked forwards. The sympathetic eyes of his housemates followed him, Dean and the brunette both wearing yellow and black ties.

Castiel (and that _was_ a weird name) walked up to the burning pile of bones. They dissolved into smoke and reformed into a lifeless form at his feet. Harry blanched at the dead body, reminded all too visibly of…

No… don’t go there.

The dead person looked a lot like Dean Winchester, but older and torn up. There was another book dropped in that direction, and Harry looked over to see the last Winchester brother – Sam – start at the sight.

“Be flattered Dean,” the brunette drawled – Harry was near enough to hear her. “Little Clarence is afraid of you dying.”

Castiel glanced back at the group, guilt in his eyes. Ron whistled quietly. “What is with these people?” he asked.

Harry didn’t answer as he called out, “Okay! Time!”

Novak drew his wand – a pale almost silvery wood and directed it towards the Boggart. “Riddikulous,” he uttered.

It failed at first. The form stuttered before morphing into what looked a lot like a dead Sam Winchester. Jaw tense Castiel tried again.

This time the form was alive – two versions of Sam and Dean laughing with beers. Harry pondered how they looked older… wearier somewhat, but before he could think much about it the shape had changed as the next girl (Masters, Meg) skipped forwards, slowing down as a man turned towards her.

A man with yellow eyes.

“Oh crap,” Harry heard the sole Ravenclaw in the group swear.

His brother whistled. “She’s scared of _Azazel_? Wouldn’t have guessed with all the daddy love going on there.”

Harry guessed that Azazel must have been her dad. He didn’t see too nice – was probably on some sort of drugs with eyes that colour.

Hermione looked uneasy and the teachers were whispering urgently. “What is it?” Harry asked.

The bushy haired book worm was silent a minute. “The yellow eyes… its dark magic.” She whispered. “Apparently it reflects your soul…”

Harry didn’t see what she was getting at. Didn’t worry about it as the Hufflepuff proceeded to insult the guy. “Next!” he called and she turned her back on him and strolled away.

“Novak, Gabriel.” Hermione called and the Slytherin exchanged a glance with Dean and his brother, Castiel, before standing, brushing himself off and sticking a lolly in his mouth. He swaggered over to the yellow-eyed man, and as he reached him, the form shifted once more to another person, blonde hair, and tall, with casual jeans, shirt and t-shirt.

The man’s flesh was peeling off his face. Harry noted Ron shuddering with revulsion next to him. “Another family member?” he asked the raven haired boy.

The red-head’s question was answered as Gabriel pulled the lollipop from his mouth. “Hey’a bro,” he drawled.

“Gabriel,” the boggart replied. It spoke… actually spoke. “Still playing around with the worthless humans?” it sneered.

Harry heard Hermione gasp. “Boggarts… they aren’t meant to speak!” she whispered. “They don’t… they don’t have thought.”

Novak didn’t seem to care as he laughed. “Come on Luci! I’ve been riding this train long enough to know that they’re better than us! Far, far better. Dad was right after all.”

The man’s face twisted. “They are flawed, abortions!”

“This is sounding familiar,” Gabriel drawled. “Going to stab me now?”

“Don’t make me do this!”

“No-one _makes_ us do _anything_!” Gabriel half-shouted this to the hall. “And no-one… not me, not Michael, _none_ of us made you fall.”

“God made me like this,” the flesh peeling guy insisted, “If I fell because of my flaws, he wanted it to happen. God wanted the devil,” Harry wonders at the religious nature of the Novak family, what with names like Gabriel and Castiel and…

Wait… was this guy’s name Luci or was that just short for…

Crazy family.

“Who cares? Dad’s gone and he left the crazy kids to fight it out. And now both you and Michael are locked up. So you know what Lucifer? Screw you! Screw your temper tantrum, screw yours and Michael’s petty squabble. I hope you sorted out matters in that cage and didn’t decide to rip yourselves apart!” and without waiting for Harry to call out, he spun around and stalked back to his friends.

There was an awkward pause and people tried to work out what little they knew about the Novaks with what they had just witnessed. Harry was under the impression that their dad had left, and two older brothers had gotten into the wrong crowd and ended up in prison.

That their names were that of archangels… well… it was just coincidence.

“Winchester, Dean.” His friend read out, breaking the silence.

Instead it was the taller figure of Sam which stood. “I think this one is mine,” he said, strolling towards the tall man who stood lazily, waiting for the next victim.

When he reached the guy, the figure didn’t change. Instead it just smiled widely. “Hey Sam,” he drawled, eyes alight with sick mirth that made Harry think of Voldemort. Yet something about this man was different… more powerful… more ancient.

“Hey Lucifer,” Sam didn’t grin, but his lips did curl into a grimace.

“What’s my favourite bunk buddy been up to? Enjoying your fake reality?”

“Enjoying the cage?” Sam snapped back.

Harry wondered what could be so terrifying about the tall guy, apparently the brother of the Novaks. His height was intimidating, but Winchester's general gang all flinched slightly when the guy – Lucifer was apparently his name – laughed.

Actually not all of them did. Meg had leaned forwards and was watching the scene with adoration in her eyes.

Weird.

“It’s not the same,” the man whined. “Keep me company Sam!” he was like a child throwing a tantrum.

The boy's jaw tensed and he didn’t reply. He was pressing the nail of his right thumb into the palm of his left hand, like it was some sort of balm.

"Did you miss me?" the guy laughed, stalking forwards when Sam didn’t say anything. "I missed you, but then again I never really left. Do you know where you are Sammy?"

That was when Harry noticed that the nail was pressing down hard enough to draw blood, and the kid looked even more freaking terrified that it didn't work. The brother, Dean, looked like he wanted to lunge forwards, but the other kids kept shooting him looks.

Apart from Meg who was starting to drool of course.

"You're not real." The Ravenclaw directed to the man – Lucifer. "You're not here. You're a hallucination."

He seemed to have genuinely forgotten that it was a Boggart, Harry realised. And the kid had hallucinations of this creepy guy with his face peeling off.

The guy laughed. "You're still in the cage. With me… You never really got out Sam."

A cage…? When had Winchester been to prison? Had he ended up there with…? Novak’s brothers? Michael and this Lucifer…? Harry stepped forwards when he saw the blood drip down from Sam’s hand.

"Maybe we should stop." he spoke up, but went ignored. The Team were still focussed on the guy as if was about to burn down the world, or kill them all or something. The dude didn't even have a wand…

Lips curled into a smirk. "I'm not going anywhere Sam. I'm here. I'm real. And you're still in my cage."

"I'm not." Sam snarled. "Shut up!"

For a moment the guy looked really happy. "You said 'shut up' to me," he swooned slightly. Was this seriously the kid’s fear? A creepy guy talking about cages..? Then his tone dropped. "Finally acknowledged the inevitable Sammy? Finally acknowledged me? I’m the Morning Star dude, out of my cage? Or am I?"

"You. Are. Not. Real." the brunette snarled, and if you could glare daggers then the tall guy would be dead. He grabbed his wand and made a stabbing motion towards the guy, half shouting “Riddikulous.”

Lucifer smirked as his form changed, into that of a kid with long hair and gangly limbs… Harry recognised Sam in the kid… but didn’t quite understand where the yellow-eyes came from…

“Riddikulous!” Sam shouted.

Now it was a clown, leering with white skin and orange hair. _Bang_. An older version of his brother, with green eyes that blinked and were suddenly black abysses… no colour in them at all... _Bang_. Lucifer standing there, unflawed, still smirking.

That was when Sam’s twin barrelled into him, knocking him to one side as he stood there defensively. Harry wondered whether he should stop the session, but glancing at the teachers who seemed relaxed, he let it play out.

The pair were odd for twins, non-identical and all. Apparently most magical twins were identical, like Parvati and Padme, and Fred and George. Sam and Dean were vastly different, and in different houses as well. They were born November 2nd according to them, and their younger brother was born mid-August, fitting them into the same year by the margin of a few days.

The Boggart took a while to condense this time, but it eventually settled into the form of a man again, stubble, curling mouth and bright white teeth. His eyes were a grey-blue but as Harry watched, they slid back up into his head revealing white all over.

He took a step forwards, practically oozing the same aura Voldemort and Bellatrix did. Harry shivered and Dean took a step back in alarm. There were muffled curses from his friends, Meg looking terrified; Crowley looked white and even usually stoic Castiel looked desperate, hands fisted in his clothes, as if he wanted to drag Dean away from there and was physically restraining himself from embarrassing his friend.

The man seemed innocent, harmless, prettier than Filch but uglier than Umbridge. He bared his perfect white teeth in a grin as if he received first prize at a raffle. "Dean, Dean, Dean-o, we've missed you down in Hell."

There were gasps from the students, because everybody knew the group harboured delusions of Heaven and Hell… or the apocalypse and mythical monsters… but nobody ever quite realised how much it must have affected the kid’s minds.

Something was very, very off with these kids.

"Alistair." the Hufflepuff snarled. He wasn’t your typical Hufflepuff, but Harry could see from the way he had moved in for his brother that he was loyal. He was a Gryffindor too though, brave and reckless, even if his limbs were shaking. Harry could see it, but he couldn’t see why this white eyed man (maybe blind or something) inspired such fear into Dean. Maybe the kid _was_ scared of blind people…

"You were such good student… I missed you so down there on the racks…" Dean flinched and the white eyed guy laughed. "Do you dream about us? _Heaven… I'm in heaven and my heart aches so… that I can hardly speak..."_ he crooned.

“Hell?” Hermione whispers. “Does Winchester think he was in Hell?”

“Oh come on…” from the side Crowley looked edgy. “Just banish him already Rocky!” The Slytherin had a propensity for calling Sam and Dean weird names. He also had a thing for whenever he joined the pair (who almost always ate at the same table regardless of house boundaries) he’d announce himself with a “Hello boys,” in that stupid drawl of his.

Harry wondered if it was a rule that Slytherins had to have a cocky drawl when they spoke.

“Yeah, Dean… that might a good idea…” Meg looked freaked.

“Aw but we had much fun!” the guy crooned. “Be my Valentine?” and he holds out his hand, a bloody pumping heart still beating on his palm and Dean choked on air… trying to breathe…

“You’re dead,” he chose instead. “Sam choked you out of existence.”

“Are you sure?” Alistair laughed. “God brought pretty little Cassie back didn’t he? Why not me? Or Azazel? Or _Lilith?_ ” he chuckled.

“Shut up.” Dean snarled. “ _Shut. Up_.”

“You’re going back there when you die, you know that? Did you think Heaven would let you in after you screwed over the angels? There’s a rack with your name on it…”

“Riddikulous!” Dean snapped, interrupting the man. Alistair choked.

Harry was trying to work out how that was funny when he spotted the blood and realised that no… this wasn’t funny at all. Winchester had forced the boggart to assume a form alright… but not a form others found funny… a form he found pleasing.

A form he desired most.

Alistair was still choking blood and laughing. “See?” he asked a stone faced Dean. “See? You still have it in you my little student,” the next minute he had to stop talking, dropping to his knees instead and starting to scream as flesh peeled itself layer by layer off his arm.

Harry felt sick. This was the equivalent of torturing someone under cruciatus only a lot bloodier and Dean Winchester… Harry could see a small glimmer of satisfaction and enjoyment in those green depths… the same look he had seen in Voldemort.

The teachers were moving forwards in alarm towards the most un-Hufflepuff ever. Harry was distracted however by the whoop from Winchester’s friends.

Meg was the cheering one. “You show that smarmy dick!” she called, laughing as the white eyed man let out another cry.

Thankfully the two Gryffindors looked horrified, although Harry thought Adam seemed almost understanding. Castiel was looking away, regret across his face, while Crowley looked both scared and thoughtful. “Hey Squirrel!” he called, “Want a job when you die?”

Gabriel whistled. “And here I thought Sam was lethal with a sharp object. Dean’s had a few lessons though…”

“The boggart got stronger,” Hermione whispered as Ron turned away, gagging at the smell of blood which was very, very real. “It fed off the fears of his friends… terrible fears… and now its strong enough to…” she motioned to the screaming man, who even as invisible claws raked down his side, blood pooling at his feet, across the floor, burning with flames that had started up.

Harry knew they weren’t there, but still wanted to put them out with water. The fire spilled across from the man, across to Dean. His brother, who was still lying sprawled across the stone flinched as it raced past him, burning around the pair in a circle…

No… Harry blinked at the shape the flames had made. It had had burned around them in a pentagram.

The Great Hall at the front had been turned into some hellish torture chamber. Dumbledore stopped the other side of the flames, near to the chest. When he tried to cross, flames reared up. Harry realised now that he should probably do something as he moved to the edge of the circle.

Flames licked at his feet and _Aguamenti_ did nothing. Stepping back in frustration, he observed Dumbledore’s own failings.

In the centre of the symbol, Sam had reached his brother who was still staring at that man, obviously seeing something else. “It’s okay!” he was shouting. “Dean! You’re not in Hell! You’re _not_ in _Hell_! Castiel pulled you out!” and he reached to shake his brother by the shoulder, startling Dean out of his reverie.

Dean shook his head like a wet dog. “I know,” he shuddered. “ _I know_.” His voice was broken and ragged.

He allowed Sam to drag him back towards the edge of the circle but there was a gasp from the students. The twins turned, hands fisted in each other’s jackets, the muggle clothes they insisted on wearing. The boggart had recovered and shifted. With both of them standing there, shoulder to shoulder, it should have been a weird mutated mix.

Not the crystal clear image of dark haired man.

“I’ll fix your darling little Sammy,” he said, before the image flickered like a bad TV and it was a different person – a woman standing there.

The blonde woman smirked. “Sic ‘em boys!” she threw out her arm and stepped aside, smirking, eyes rolling up white as moves as if to let something past. For the split second before the image changed Harry saw that hound again – three of them, snarling and heading straight for the brothers…

Then a narrow eyed man, sneering face. “We heard what you majored in down in the pit…”

The brothers had gone pale, still pressed together as the channel changes on the boggart once more.

“You did it. You opened the door…” a brown haired woman whispered earnestly. “And now he’s free at last. He’s free at last…” her voice was full of wonder.

The person standing there kept switching.

"I'll give you one year and one year only."

"And round and round the Winchesters go."

A few looked familiar, like older versions of the team, of the brothers themselves.

"Shouldn't have come here boys."

“How about you don’t miss, okay? Morons!”

"Cass is… he's gone. He's _dead_. We run the show now…"

"Whatever you do, you will always end up... here. No matter what choices you make, whatever details you alter… we… will always end up here. I win. So I win."

"If I didn't know you. I would want to hunt you."

"Think about it. Michael, the big brother, loyal to an absent father. And Lucifer… the little brother… rebellious of daddy's plans. You were born to this boys!"

It kept switching, to strangers, familiar faces, monsters… there were screams from the students in the crowd as a man snapped up his head, face stretching into a pair of wide fang filled jaws. Black eyes leer out of faces.

“Here’s Johnny!”

Red and yellow and white eyes flash. Fangs and claws and teeth snarl. Bodies, dead and twisted and mutated shudder past like an old film reel. Black ooze and blood and ghostly ripped up people.

“That's one deep, dark, nothing you got there Dean. But you just keep fighting, just keep going through the motions. You're not hungry, Dean, because inside, you're already dead.”

"You turn yourself into a freak. A monster. And now you're not going to bite? That is simply adorable…"

"Sam, this is not how we communicate from a place of yes… that was bracing… where’d you kids find that stuff?"

“Where do we go when we die? Not Heaven, not Hell… Purgatory...”

“Purgatory is vast, hell adjacent and I want it.”

“He’s in the cage… with _Michael and Lucifer…”_

“Hell is like um… well… it’s like hell… even for demons… it’s a prison made of bone and flesh and blood and fear…”

“I don't need soldiers. I need soldier. I just need the one.”

“Okay look yesterday was Tuesday right? But today is Tuesday too!”

“I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition.”

Harry wonders how the boggart is coming up with those images, but judging from the brother’s shocked faces, and the pained expressions of their friends hovering on the outside of the circle, it seems likely that these are memories.

But… these were eighteen year old kids. Sure they were weird with delusions… but how did they have memories that bad?

Harry thought that was a stupid question, considering the thing he had seen but even then… some of the things before him…

The kaleidoscope of memories continued. “Boggarts when faced with lots of people… it confuses them.” Hermione whispered frantically in Harry’s ear. “It should have it splitting images but this… it’s like a film reel using… it looks like memories but it can’t be. They can’t have memories like this. It’s… mutating them or something… it doesn’t know which to pick to scare them. Listen to it. Demon and angels…”

“Dad’s on a _hunting trip_. And he hasn’t been home is a few days…”

"I rebelled _for this_? For you to _surrender_ to them?"

"It's your _destiny!_ It was _always_ you!"

“Like _Lucifer_ … didn’t worry? Or _Michael_ … or _Lilith_ … or _Alistair_ … or _Azazel didn’t worry_?!”

"This body… it’s so pretty…"

"You can't fight city hall."

“And only one of you crazy kids is going to make the cut!”

“You’re _weak_. You’re holding me back…”

"Free will is _an illusion_ Dean."

"Good _Morning_ Vietnam!"

"You left part of yourself back in the pit. Let's see if we can put you back together, shall we?"

"You _kill_ that smarmy dick…"

"If you walk out that door… don't you _ever_ come back!"

"I'll tear their _friggin'_ hearts out."

"Drinking demon blood? You have to know that's _wrong_ right?"

“As it is in Heaven… _so it shall be on earth_. One brother has to kill the other.”

“Come on Sammy… let’s just…” Dean pulled his brother and the two staggered out of the fire. As they did so the whole pentagram collapsed in a whirl of flames.

Dumbledore moves forwards but the pair are already sprinting out of the hall and the door slammed behind them. The boggart was… gone would be the best way to describe it… but it was really just smouldering flames on the floor.

“It burnt itself out,” Hermione whispered. “Whatever it showed them…”

Dumbledore had summoned Snape and McGonnagal before strolling after the twins. There was an awkward silence in the hall, plagued with whispers as Professor Flitwick announced in a squeaky voice. “This session is over. Please return to your usual activities.”

Naturally nobody moved.

But when the Team began to discuss about what happened everybody is naturally listening.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> 

“I never realised how much their lives sucked,” Meg drawled.

Castiel glared at her. “Your input is not welcome,” he snapped, ignoring the awkward silence filling the hall.

“I’m sorry Clarence, I just meant was it really a good idea throwing Sam and Dean at that thing? After everything they’ve faced?”

“Oh just shut your pie hole demon,” Adam told her, “Just be flattered you turned up in their worst memory reel and agree never to speak of it again.” He had seen himself in the flash of images, both as a smirking ghoul, a dead body, and Michael’s meat suit. He was thankful he had only had one thing to face.

People were staring at them. Crowley shifted uncomfortably. “So guys, what do you say we…. Uh… skedaddle back to America and kill some Leviathans?”

Gabriel slouches back. “Trust Hardy Boys to mess things up. Hey Cass you wanna’…?”

“I’m on it…” Castiel stood and headed towards the door. Students moved aside to let him pass… Harry would too consider one of those images had him, wearing a bloody trench coat as black spread across his veins.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> 

Ron shuddered. “What was that about?” he asks Harry.

“No idea.”

“Look,” Hermione shushed them, “Malfoy is going to talk to them.”

So he was, strutting towards them as if he owned the place. “So what was that about? Little Sam and Dean scared of monsters in their closet?” he asks.

Harvelle laughed. “The monsters are scared of them,” she smirked.

The Hufflepuff laughed in his face. “Oh sweetie… the things they’ve seen are a lot worse than that,” and for a moment her eyes look almost black, but then they aren’t and Harry reckoned he must have been imagining it.

“You lot are crazy,” Malfoy sneered, “Believing in angels and demons and the apocalypse…”

Gabriel Novak stood and glared at Malfoy. “I’d turn around now and walk away because believe me you do not want to piss me off.”

“What are you going to do?” the blonde laughed, “Smite me with your big bad archangel powers?”

“Don’t tempt me,” he replied, eyes looking gold and for a moment the lights flickered.

And for a moment, there seemed to be the impression of wings against the wall.

Malfoy had seen them, and was slowly losing his nerve. “Nice trick,” he gestured. “But it doesn’t scare me.”

Harry wished Malfoy had faced the Boggart instead of drifting in late to miss his turn.

Gabriel laughed as he headed the route his brother had gone. “You’re not worth the effort hotshot,” he said over his shoulder. “You know if any of you had seen even half of what those two have you’d be curled up sobbing in a psych ward!” he shouted out, “so do me a favour, yeah?” he asked the silent hall, “Don’t ever speak of that to them or as Sam can testify, I’ll lock you in an eternal Tuesday to die again and again in the most painful, bloody way possibly.” With that he was gone, Meg shouldering Malfoy aside to trot after him.

The awkward silence returned.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> 

Crowley, Adam and Jo remained sitting.

“Well,” Crowley said to nobody in particular. “It could have been worse,” he concluded.

“How?” Jo asked, scornfully. “How could it have been worse than having your whole life on fast forward boggart TV?”

The King of Hell sighed. “It couldn’t. I lied. I do that. Demon.” He waggled his fingers.

Adam sighed. Nothing changed then.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> 


	2. You Know What's Out There (Dean)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Of course you should be afraid of the dark!... You know what's out there!"  
> And sometimes Dean thinks that makes the situation worse.
> 
> In which the Team meet dementors and werewolves, Meg and Dean write in a library book (much to Sam's horror) and they argue with the Golden Trio about religion.
> 
> All in a normal day really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These various snapshots into Team Free Will's time at Hogwarts jump around a lot. This chapter covers their fourth and fifth year (Harry's third and fourth).
> 
> This can also be found on my FFNet Profile of the same name. It started out basically as an exploration of the Supernatural character's fears, turned into a giant opportunity to list my favourite quotes and ended up being a long slightly (very) crack-ish fic wherein the Supernatural gang attend Hogwarts.

  **Chapter 2: Of course you should be afraid of the dark**

"So I think our Defence teacher is a werewolf," Dean announced, as he sat down next to Jo at the Gryffindor table. He received a scandalous look from a bushy haired third year, probably for even entertaining the thought of being able to sit there with his yellow and black tie, let alone the creature theory he sprouted.

Dean ignored her. He did however lower his voice to keep the conversation private. Gabriel slid into a spare seat opposite and the Gryffindors were so used to the weird group they didn't even glance twice at his silver and green tie. "Silver bullets?" he asked, munching his way through a bar of chocolate.

"He does not appear to be dangerous," Even if he couldn't fly, Cass could still appear out of nowhere, making Dean jump as he slid in to sit as usual, on Dean's right. Sam would normally slip in on the left, but since Jo was already sitting there he joined her on the other side.

Adam looked distinctly uncomfortable at sitting next to Gabriel which, considering the archangel had recently cursed him to talk backwards for a week, was entirely justified.

“Do you want to check?” Sam asked.

Dean sighed. “Cass is right. He’s not… he’s a teacher. He gets subbed in for every full moon so they obviously think it’s safe for him to teach. And no kids have lost their heart recently.”

“They have a potion,” Sam chose that moment to be geeky, “It’s called Wolfsbane… not very inventive, but it lets the werewolf keep their mind. He probably gets that as part of his pay.”

The Righteous Man sighed. He’d never admit it, but he’d kind of been hoping for a hunt. As it was, he didn’t fancy murdering their Defence teacher (who was actually decent this year) and they probably wouldn’t be able to justify ‘werewolf’ as a reason for killing him. “So for now we just ignore his time of the month?” Dean asked.

“Sure, let’s go with that.” Meg looked up from where she had been writing a last minute homework for what looked like transfiguration. “Hey, Dean-o? If you could be an animagus, what would your form be?”

His face twisted. “A skin walker?” He frowned, trying to remember the lesson.

“You haven’t done it yet,” Crowley said, “Meg’s helping me with my work.” And wasn’t that a conundrum. The Slytherin’s and Gryffindors were paired for Transfiguration, while Dean, Cass and Meg were with Sam in the same class.

“Skin walkers are affected by a curse, similar to werewolves,” Meg summarised, reading through Crowley’s work. “Animagus change unaffected by lunar cycles, or the mental state of the animal provided it’s done correctly. Those that have failed have produced the magical lycan, or the skin walker. Animagi are human in all extents except for the lack of their usual body.” She paused to correct something.

Dean shrugged. “Uh… never thought about it... I like being human.”

“I think Cass would be a golden eagle.” Sam said, blinking around at the group. “And Gabriel would be a racoon.”

“Moose.” Crowley pointed at Sam. “Squirrel.” He pointed at Dean.

“That’s too easy.” Gabe sighed. “Samoose would probably… a raven. Or some sort of hawk. And Dean’s sort of wolf like… a wolf-dog.”

Dean paused to consider that, and failing to find any problems thought for a second about Meg. “Crowley’s a cat. Some purring cat that sits on the king’s thrones… It’s either that or a snake… Meg’s a weasel. Or ermine of some kind… like a polecat, or marten.”

Meg considered that, and finding no underlying offense smiled, which was downright creepy, and even after five years he wasn’t used to this shit. “I reckon Jo’s a jackal.” She announced. “Or a fox of some kind.”

“And Adam’s an otter.” Sam piped up, seeming to enjoy it. “Happy, loves the water, loves fish…”

Adam glared at his older brother. “Why’s Gabe a racoon?” he asked instead. “I think Gabriel’s more of a monkey. Or some sort of bird… like a mocking bird… or those birds which mimic telephones in Australia or someplace.”

“Just because they’re angels, do they have to have wings?” Dean quizzed the Team.

“That makes you and Sam birds too, practically,” Gabriel snarked. “Or our forms would be something like a badger and snake for our vessels. It’s personality here.”

“Says here,” Meg read Crowley’s fancy scrawl. “They have distinguishing marks. Like McGonagall’s cat glasses.

“Do you want to try this or something?” Jo asked her. “Why are you so curious about this?”

Meg shrugged nonchalantly. “Wondered if you lot wanted to try it. It’s your brand of crazy right?”

“A brand too strong,” Adam shook his head. “I’ve already been angelified. Keep me human.”

“Would the process work for these created bodies?” Castiel posed a question no-one would know the answer too. He so should have ended up in Ravenclaw. “It is likely that Gabriel, Meg, Crowley and I would lose our form entirely in the process.”

“So let’s not try it,” Dean stole a slice of pie from his best friend’s plate. “Okay?”

Castiel blinked at him, “Of course Dean.”

“Another thing,” Gabriel said, “Stay away from those Dementers.”

“Dementors,” Sam corrected, turning the page of his book that he was reading.

“Yeah, that,” Gabriel sniffed. “So apparently they suck out souls.”

Sam looked up in alarm and Dean frowned. “Okay, so not good.” He concluded. “But they use them as prison guards… why if it just improves the criminal’s lack of a moral compass...?”

Crowley curled his lip. “Because you lose your soul entirely. Demons… we’re just twisted souls by what we did in the pit, but then I don’t need to tell you that, do I sunshine?” he leered at Dean.

Meg hit him, but it lacked it usual distaste and remained playful banter. “Even angelic grace if, not a human soul, is the equivalent.”

Castiel nodded. “It allows us to feel emotion, if in a different way from humans and demons. We’re a different species entirely, while most monsters and ghosts… they are same, just a mutation of the original human soul.”

Sam took a break from his reading to think this through. “So what happens to the people who lose their soul to these things?”

Gabriel winced. “They take your mind as well. It would be as if Castiel had pulled your body from the pit and nothing else. Just a meat-suit. Nothing else in there. And the soul… well that’s gone. If the energy is eaten then it doesn’t transfer to Heaven.”

“What do the souls do in Heaven?” Dean asked, suspicious, because is Gabriel said they were a nuclear power source for the angels he wouldn’t be that surprised.

“They provide power for the earth.” Okay, not entirely what he had been expecting. “They’re like a nuclear power station to power the planet. Which in turn creates more like, which in turn creates more souls to power stuff. Creation grows. It was God’s greatest work.”

“What, recycling?” Meg asked. Dean grinned.

“So these Dementors feed off life energy then.”

“Aka, soul...” Gabriel responded to Adam’s curiosity. Dean’s youngest brother fit in so well there were times Dean forgot that Adam wasn’t as used to this as he and Sam were. “These things… well they’re a bit like Famine.”

“The horseman..?” Jo looked alarmed, which considering her run in with War was fair play.

“Famine’s little minions,” Dean shuddered at the memory of the weak old man, who starved for life, and at the black gaping hole where he hungered for oblivion.

Crowley seemed to have given up on his previous work. “If Dementors are another species, do you think it’s possible to crossbreed them with humans?”

The Team was disgusted by the Hell King’s thinking, except Gabriel who actually seemed to be considering it. "I'm sure someone's tried it by now." He debated, "I mean, look at our beloved head of house! The aura of despair Snape projects to Gryffindors is nearly tangible, he's gotta be at least half..."

Jo hit him. She seemed to have developed Ellen’s powers for keeping the angels… well… mostly Gabriel since Castiel was well-behaved and the demons in line.

Crowley moved away from her warily, catching sight of Sam’s massive text book. “What the… Jolly Green is that calculus?” At Crowley’s disgusted tone, Dean looked up. Sam was still paging through his book, which looked like he had bought it in a normal bookstore.

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, thumbing over a page. “It’s for Arithmancy.”

Dean leaned past Jo to stare at it. “Why exactly are you sitting there with an A2 text book?” he asked loudly, catching the attention of some passing Ravenclaw’s and the bushy haired third year who had glared at him earlier.

The Ravenclaws looked terrified as they spotted the book, and Dean supposed that Sam shrugging nonchalantly announcing, “Calculus was harder,” didn’t help matters.

The year before they had to pick their electives... The minimum was two, out of the five possible choices.

Care of Magical Creatures had pretty much been a tick for all of them. Sam had then proceeded to go down the geeky route of Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. And as much as Dean had hated school, maths had been one of his better subjects and after his tentative try at Divination, he had switched over to join his brother.

The fortune telling lark had been fun though. He had dragged Castiel down to the kitchen to pick up fortune cookies from the house elves. They had to get directions from a portrait.

“I am Sir-“

Dean interrupted him, already running slightly late. “I know, I know… You’re the Knight who said Ni!” Monty Python was a danger to small kids and anybody really…

“What…no.” the portrait looked puzzled. Dean sighed. McGonagall hadn’t understood it when Dean invisibly summoned his book across the table and claimed to be using the force, although she had given him good marks for silent use of the spell.

Dean did eventually make it up to the right tower with the help of the Knight who didn’t say Ni. He then proceeded to eat his fortune cookies with Gabriel and Crowley, who were the only two who had taken the class.

The teacher only noticed mid-rant about how the stars were aligning themselves. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“Fortune cookie?” Dean offered.

She blinked. “I’m sorry?”

He cracked it open for her. “It says here… ‘Your imagination is your greatest asset.’” He blinked. “Huh, not bad. I keep getting ‘the one you love is closer than you think’.”

She peered at him closely with her big glasses. “Oh my child… you… you have the gift…”

“What?” Dean squeaked, and dammit his voice was still switching pitch. “No… it’s a fortune cookie. Not a prophecy.”

She reached out a shuddering hand and Dean leaned away. “You… you have been touched by death… and it will touch you again. You…my boy… a light awaits you after your dark time.”

Crowley had lost it at that point. Gabriel still looked smug, and Dean sighed, “Yeah, its hellfire,” he repeated what Sam had told him once. She looked alarmed.

“You have seen this?” she demanded.

Dean nodded. “Except hell is actually a pretty cold place.”

“Actually we installed insulation,” Crowley corrected him.

“I take that back. Hell is a cosy place.”

They had dropped that class pretty quickly. Sam was the only one doing both Runes and Arithmancy. The rest, after realising Divination wasn’t worth it, had opted for Muggle Studies as an easy grade, unless you were Dean, who was only doing to it to force Gabriel and Castiel to learn some human manners. Crowley did it just for the amusement value.

For instance now, while Crowley was comparing Sam’s thick text book to his own thin text, Jo was persuading Adam to do some runes work, using Sam as an example of perfect model student. Then again, Sam had voluntarily bought his own book, which lost him points and added to the geek factor in Dean’s opinion.

“Hey Meg,” Dean asked across the table, feeling left out of the study circle. It wasn’t that he couldn’t manage it… they’d always been better, more practical things to do. “You bored?”

Her eyes lit up, flashing black for a split second. They still did that occasionally, as did Crowley’s (although they ended up red) when emotional. “Finally, someone gets it.”

“This isn’t going to be good.” Castiel observed.

“No shit,” Adam sighed, resigned to the fact that Dean and Meg were going to team up to do something scary.

Dean leaned forwards to explain his idea.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

It came into fruition and was successfully, at least until a month later when they were once again at the Gryffindor table, sitting and making alterations. Castiel still had the seat off Dean’s right, and Meg had to sit opposite instead, Sam on his left. Gabriel sat the other side of Cass, arguing with Jo about something, while Adam and Crowley seemed to be attempting to interact with others in the Gryffindor House. The ‘Golden Trio’ with Harry Potter himself in it though didn’t seem that interested.

Sam had finally cottoned onto what Dean and Meg were doing though. “You stole a book on demons and made alterations to it?” he said, a tone too loud.

“What?” Hermione looked up in shock. “You _wrote_ in a _book?_ ”

Dean looked up, mid-word in a paragraph about the ranks of hell. “Edited.” He corrected, even as he altered the authors assumptions about the seven gates, changing it to four gates with cracks in defences which hardly even constituted as gates really…

“A library book?” the book-worm looked as if someone had killed her puppy.

“From the restricted section,” Meg looked up gleefully. “Next to those screaming ones about magical body mutations.”

Dean blinked at her. “You read them?” he asked in surprise.

Meg looked digested. “No. Dean-o, it is bad enough I need a meat suit to ride around in, let alone look at what alterations can and can’t be done to this sack of flesh and bones.”

Hermione didn’t seem to understand, which was just as well, considering the Team pretty much never censored their conversations, leading the general consensus from the school that they all held a shared religious delusion. The teachers had tried to address this to no avail. She leant over, forcing Ron Weasley and Crowley to move as she literally leaned around Sam’s lanky teenage body to look at the book. “That… that’s about hell.”

“Helle,” Dean corrected idly. “They like their extra letter ‘e’s. Hey Meg, was gluttony the third or fourth circle?”

“That’s Dante,” Sam complained. “And they’re the third. Greed is the fourth.”

Meg actually paused to consider. “I think they got the first circle actually. Limbo waiting area… didn’t Crowley turn it into an endless queue?”

Dean made the correct amendments. Hermione death-glared him for writing in the book; “That’s not your property,” she hissed. “If you don’t fix it, I’ll go to Professor Dumbledore.”

Meg and Dean ignored her. “Seven levels of torture,” Meg pointed out. “We had some good times down on the first level, huh?”

“Oh yeah,” Dean mocked, “Alistair was a real partyer.” His tone was scathing. Dean would rather not remember that part of his Hell stay.

His brother, despite himself, seemed curious. “So where were Adam and I then?”

“Oh not you too..!” Hermione snapped. “You’re a Ravenclaw. Don’t you value books more than that?”

Crowley was the one who answered, shuddering. “The cage is at the bottom. Hell gets gradually colder as you go down, the sins get worse and the demons get eviler. The Fallen hang out at the very bottom around the cage.”

Sam frowned. “Really..? I recall burning a lot.”

“Michael.” Dean and Adam answer in sync, and Dean really wished sometimes he’s just said ‘yes’ to Michael if only to save the kid the knowledge. Hermione sent them a scorching glance and he shrugged. “Michael’s the burning hot archangel of fire while Lucifer’s the ice cold devil. Opposites...”

“It makes sense if you think about it.” Adam added. Dean was relieved that Adam could only remember the haziest memories of hell. He used to go to sleep at night feeling sick at the thought that Adam was still in the cage, and to have him out was a weight of his shoulders.

“No, it doesn’t.” Hermione seemed to have joined in their conversation. “Archangels don’t exist. Demons… don’t exist. Heaven and Hell don’t… why are you laughing?” she looked slightly hurt as Gabriel, Crowley, Meg and Dean burst out laughing.

“Why don’t you believe it?” Jo asked, “Just ignore them,” she added as an afterthought.

“Where’s the proof?” Hermione said hotly.

“So what… eight people testifying to personal experience isn’t good enough for you?”

“Your mental state is debatable,” she sniffed.

“You need have more faith,” Cass said. He didn’t have much to say, and seemed to enjoy appreciating a world that wasn’t about to be destroyed. “You can’t witness magic with your own to eyes, yet you accept its existence.”

Dean smirked, flicking to the next section of the book, where it went into details about demons. There were some crude drawings of the fallen angels, along with some attempt at their demonic forms, which he knew from experience didn’t compare. He and Meg had already altered the pictures, and he heard Hermione and Sam’s intake of breath at the bloodied human bodies, grotesque bones, blurred features, black eyes and animal legs, antlers, tails and wings attached in all the wrong places. As humans degraded into demons, their forms degraded until they were nothing more than animals.

According to Gabriel and Castiel who could still see Meg and Crowley’s true form, the pair were looking more like humans than most demons, which was always good news.

“But you see the consequences of magic,” Hermione tore her eyes away from the images. “I can say a spell and see a reaction.”

“You don’t see the process though,” Cass responded calmly, “You see death and accept it, even if you don’t see the way the heart stops beating and the oxygen stops flowing. These are facts you take on faith on the proof of others.”

“But…”

“Is this a debate we can join in Granger?” a blonde haired Slytherin… and Dean’s heart sank as he realised this was the Malfoy twerp from the film. He looked surprisingly similar to the actor too…

“Of course,” Meg leered at the Slytherin and the boy actually looked slightly scared by Meg and her awesome ability to freak anyone out. “Why don’t you just share your views about the existence of Heaven and Hell while Dean and I compile an edited encyclopaedia about Hell and its key inhabitants?” She turned to Dean, “Do you want to leave Azazel, Alistair and Lilith’s entries in, even if they’re dead?”

“We’ve left Lucifer’s entry in,” Dean pointed out; turning over to where a small child was depicted, mouth red with blood as her eyes slid white. The picture was moving, and with the blonde hair, it really did look like Lilith. “I’ll make a note though.” He scribbled deceased at the bottom on her page.

“Is that a library book?” Draco looked disgusted. “Trust mudbloods to have no true appreciation for literature.”

“That’s what I said!” Hermione exclaimed… then paused. “Not about the muggleborns, but they’re defacing the book!”

Draco immediately looked like he wanted to take the sentence back.

“Oh, Belial’s dead too,” Crowley said over the students to Dean. “Some angel gutted him in the fifteenth century.”

Gabriel’s innocent whistle completely and utterly failed.

“Are you making alterations to a book on…?”

Meg read out the title. “Records of Hell… With an ‘e’.” she grinned. “Do you know they thought Alistair was just a black-eyed demon?”

Dean let out a hollow laugh, but Sam was the one who spoke up. “I thought Alistair was top of the food-chain… aren’t all white-eyes?”

“White-eyes are arch-demons. At least we call them that.”

“Why aren’t you one?” Adam said, and Draco and Hermione shot Meg a funny look at that. She glared at him.

“Shut up kid. Abaddon was a knight and she got black eyes too.”

“It’s because she worked for Yellow-eyes,” Dean said tiredly. “And didn’t lead the others... Lilith and Alistair only answered to Azazel and other white-eyes and Lucifer himself…”

“More… religious nonsense..?”

To their credit, none of the Team jumped at Professor Snape sneaking up on them, although Hermione and Draco flinched.

“Professor,” Draco chimed up, “Winchester and Masters have been defacing a library book.”

Black hooded eyes slid over to where Dean and Meg were still unabashedly editing the page of Azazel. Dean even had a normal pen, instead of a quill feather, like the rest of the Team.

“Is this true…” his gaze slid past to the book, and he swiftly reached down and plucked it up.

“Hey!” Dean protested as his writing material vanished. “I was working on that.”

Snape eyed the notations in the margin and the many scribbles through the writing. “Because you believe that… Azazel was a fallen angel and not a demon.” He sneered slightly. “When are you two going to learn to grow up?”

Dean twisted around in his chair. Castiel opened his mouth and Dean put a hand over it. “When are you lot going to learn to ‘have faith?’ he retorted, speaking for the angel.

“Dean, that’s really not the idea…”

“Shh, Cass...”

“I believe this has gone far enough,” Snape spat, “Masters, Winchester…” he paused, glancing at Sam and Adam, and it was really amazing how he managed to single out Dean instead of them. He was impressed. “Detention…”

“What?” Meg’s voice rose. “For what…?”

“For defiling a library book with vile, dark nonsense...”

“It’s true though.” Dean retorted.

Snape glared at him and he related.

“Fine... We’ll go to your detention. Can we have the book back? It actually had useful information in it.”

Snape glared at him. “Demons…” He said, snapping the book shut with a snap. “Don’t exist. Not in real life at least...”

He looked about to turn away but paused, shooting Meg a funny glance. Dean smirked, knowing she had just flashed her eyes at him, her equivalent of sticking up her finger. Sam was trying to look disapproving, but was failing. They really had far too much fun teasing these people.

“The book,” Castiel spoke up, “May we have it back?” and this was going to be good, because Mr Socially Awkward really unnerved Snape with his odd reactions to things.

“No.” Snape snapped, and Dean was convinced it was just because he wanted to be petulant. “This will be disposed of. Don’t pry into dark magic like this again.”

And because Dean couldn’t let it rest, couldn’t it slide, he called after Snape, “Hey Professor? Been to any crossroads lately?”

Crowley lost it at that point, and Hermione glaring at them in a mix of amusement and anger, sniffed as if there was a bad smell beneath her nose, and stalked off after her friends, who had managed to go through the whole meal not noticing the conflict behind them.

Draco seemed to get the connotations of Dean’s question for he went pale, and flounced off. The wizards might not believe in demons, but they at least knew enough to realise that crossroads equalled dark magic.

“What crawled up his backside?” Adam asked, and Sam’s head hit the table, probably wishing he wasn’t related to such idiots.

Dean loved them all the same.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

It wasn’t until a year later that Dean got another chance to find out more about the magical world’s view on demons. Their teacher was an ex-auror and had apparently hunted down dark wizards, or some other equally decent lifestyle. Dean had stalked him down after a particular gruelling lecture to question him.

The fake-eye spun, creeping him out, but he continued nonetheless. “What do you know about demons?” he asked.

“Demons..? Hell spawn or human evil?”

“Hell and Heaven and angels and demons,” Dean clarified.

“Don’t exist.” Moody sniffed.

“Then where does dark magic come from?” he asked.

“Where does light magic come from?” the teacher asked rhetorically. “Thoughts and intentions...”

“How do you know?” Dean pressed for more information.

Moody sighed, taking a swig of his pocket flask. “Boy, evil comes in many different shapes and forms. Believe me, I’ve see it.” Dean knew what he was talking about, but remained silent. “Demons though… the fundamental idea of a being that is pure evil? That’s just a myth… it’s a way for people to explain away the horrible deeds that others do with lies and reassurances. It’s to make them feel better, that the damned go to hell and they go to heaven. Because boy, if demons existed… don’t you think someone would have noticed?”

“What if they have?” Dean hurried to keep up with his teacher as he moved along the stone corridors. “What if you don’t have a clue what you’re talking about and demons are real. What if people know about them and deal with them? What then?”

“Who..?” Moody barked, “Unspeakables? They’re too busy playing with magic to worry about Hell.”

“I heard they have a portal,” Dean said, “They call it the Veil… Apparently it leads to the other side. Which means there must be something there right?”

“I’m not having theological debates kid.”

“But theoretically…”

“Theoretically, it leads to a collection of dead souls and magic according to the Unspeakables.” The grizzled auror spat. “Not hell.”

Dean hadn’t thought it would be hell; otherwise they’d be demons coming out of the crack. “I heard if you bury a box at a crossroads containing a picture, graveyard dirt and the bone of a black cat it will summon a demon,” he mentioned idly.

Moody didn’t even pause, continuing his hurried limp to dinner. “You can try it boy. Ain’t gonna’ get you anything other than dirty hands.”

“And what if it did work?” Dean pressed. “And you sold your soul. Ten years for a wish granted. What then?”

Moody paused. “Why ten years?” he asked, curiously.

Realising he had pushed his boundary, Dean stopped. “I’ve just remembered Professor…. I need to go see Professor Snape. Detention… Sorry about that… thanks for the information…” He added, jogging away.

“What did you do boy?” Moody called after him.

“Stole one of his silver knives..!” Dean called over his shoulder, thankful the man hadn’t pressed the issue. He kind of liked the guy… he was an odd cross between Alistair and Bobby… which should have been creepier than it was…

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Their fourth year had been his favourite. The defence teacher was actually decent, even if he had been a werewolf, and they actually learned something. They did unfortunately have to deal with the dementors thought that were stalking the school. Admittedly they appeared to support Hufflepuff during Quidditch matches, but that had been their only pro.

Meg had been the first to notice their presence at the beginning of the year, when the train stopped. Her eyes had gone wide and flashed black. Crowley had cursed. On the floor his pet hellhound puppy had curled back his lips.

“What is it?” Jo asked, alarmed from where she was squashed in next to Adam by the window. They might still have been growing fourteen and fifteen year olds, but they refused to split between two train carriages. The window next to her was frosting up and with a gasp she pulled her arm back, watching the frost that crept along it.

The air was cold as Dean let out a shaky breath, shaking his head at the noise in his ears. “Ghost?” he asked.

“Worse,” Castiel said, stepping up towards the door. He slid it closed, standing like a sentinel. “I believe it is what the magicians call a dementor.”

Sam’s hands tightened, nails digging into Dean’s leg which he had grabbed reflexively for support. “Those prison guards they’re stationing around the school?” he asked.

Another scream echoed in Dean’s ear and he flinched, eyes widening at the torn, broken sound. The smell of sulphur and blood hit his nose and he swallowed. “What the hell is a dementor?” he demanded, eyes flickering to where Meg had pressed herself against Gabriel, who seemed unaffected by the dark presence.

The archangel shrugged. “I don’t know.” He said, “I can feel it… but not the way you are.”

“It’s like…” Adam muttered, brokenly. “It’s like being trapped in the cage, and knowing that I’m never going to get out.”

“Hopeless.” Castiel observed. “You feel hopeless. You feel a sense of desolation and…” he stopped as the door handle turned with a creak. Dean shuddered at the horror movie vibe, another scream making him jerk, Sam’s nails digging into his leg.

The door slid open and his eyes widened at the cloaked figure that stood there, bony hands and hollow eyes beneath a dark shadow. It reminded him of the daeva’s… the souls in hell so lost they were nothing more than a mass of churning emotion, shadow and darkness.

Meg whimpered. Dean noticed Sam’s thumb nail dig into his left palm, and he knew that while he was hearing the hell screams, Sam was hearing Lucifer’s mocking voice again.

“Leave,” Gabriel stood. Castiel refused to move from his position in the doorway. Low growls echoed through the carriage as Growly snarled at the creature, hackles raised and fangs bared.

“You don’t touch them,” Castiel emphasized. The dementor hung there, breath cloudy for a moment, eying the two demons and four humans as a werewolf would eye a juicy heart. “Not now. Not ever.”

The thing reeled back, the two angels countering its presence as it moved away, and Cass took the chance to slam the door closed, breaking its desolate aura.

Dean let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. His heart was beating erratically, and Sam and Adam didn’t look much better. Jo had curled up in a ball, Crowley next to her looking like Lucifer himself had just turned up to reclaim his throne. His pet hopped up and pressed himself to his master. Jo flinched away from the hound, even if compared to the slavering blood and ichor coated monsters Dean was familiar with, Growly was a Doberman puppy in looks.

It didn’t stop Jo, Dean and Meg giving the thing a wide berth.

“Those things are going to be around the school the whole year?” Adam shuddered.

“That sucks.” Meg gasped out.

Castiel had maintained his position by the door and when the handle turned again everybody jumped. Cass glared at the ragged man who opened it, checking in on them.

“Are you okay?” the guy asked. “Your door was closed. The dementors are gone now by the way.”

“We don’t require your assistance,” Dean’s angel said threateningly. Gabriel moved back to his seat, almost tripping over one of the bags which had fallen down when the train stopped suddenly.

“Thanks for the offer though,” Gabe said, slipping in besides Sam, pausing to grab Dean’s brother’s wrist, examining the place where Sam’s nail had drawn blood. “Actually – do you have a bandage or something? Samsquatch hurt himself.”

Dean snatched up Sam’s hand out of Gabriel’s grip. “God Sammy,” he breathed, “When I said pain helps to focus on reality I didn’t mean for you to go into self-harming.”

“I didn’t realise,” Sam muttered, embarrassed. “I just heard Lu…” he glanced up at the teacher. “Him and panicked,” he said instead.

“You can’t talk Dean-o,” Gabriel defended Sam. He always did side with Sam, as some sort of apology for putting Sam off Tuesday’s for life. “Look at what you did to the seat.”

And while Sam’s had been gripping Dean’s leg, Dean had practically shredded the head rest of the seat. He let go of it, glaring at the angel.

“Here,” the teacher seemed to ignore the tension, passing them a bar of chocolate. “It helps.” He said, leaving the bar in Castiel’s confused hands. “Trust me. If you need anything I’ll be down at the end of the train,” he gave the group a tentative smile before leaving, sliding the door closed for them.

Castiel looked at the chocolate in his hands. “So… umm… chocolate?” he offered.

Dean let out a weak laugh and stole it off him.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Their year remained unexciting, provided they avoided the dementors. The cloaked menaces had shown up at a Quidditch match and then proceeded to swarm everywhere except a ten metre radius around Cass and Gabriel, the Team huddled within the invisible circle. Then Potter fell off his broom and Crowley winced unsympathetically.

“Owch,” he muttered, “That’s gotta’ hurt.”

Adam punched him on the shoulder. “Sympathy, Crowley,” he said, “What have I been trying to teach you?”

“That if we run over dogs we have to stop,” Meg recited. “I still don’t understand why.”

Dean rolled his eyes. Demons would be demons.

There had also been the incident where they’d been turned out of their dormitories to camp in the Great Hall. Apparently Sirius Black (“Who’s actually innocent,” Adam had tried to tell them, but nobody really wanted to get involved with the Harry kid’s destiny to save the world. They’d already saved it once.) had broken into the castle and slashed up a portrait. Dean had been woken up by the prefect turning him out of bed, which then turned really awkward as he had to explain why Sam was camping with him, and then they had to explain to the teacher why Sam had switched dorm rooms in the first place.

Really it was stupid, and Sam and Dean had managed not sleeping near each other before, but the magic thing still freaked Dean out, and Sam had still been reeling from the hallucinations. Dean had been under the impression that if he let Sam out of his sight he’d vanish again, and the next time he found Sam he wouldn’t be laid up in a psych ward… he’d just be flat out dead. Again.

So in the first year they had switched rooms to watch each other’s backs, and they’d just kept it up.

Now however, needless to say they were getting funny looks from their housemates.

“The Fat Lady,” Jo had told them, their sleeping bags pulled together in one corner. Dean’s was pulled protectively next to Sam’s and Cass had done the same to Dean, and Crowley kept glancing at the arrangement and sniggering. The rest were in a rough circle around an invisible central camp fire and Gabriel was roasting a packet of marshmallows he’d gotten somewhere over the non-existent fire.

"Everyone into their sleeping bags!" The Gryffindor prefect shouted, strolling around the hall as if he owned the place. "Come on, now, no more talking! Lights out in ten minutes!"

Already wrapped up in their fluffy purple sleeping bags, none of the team moved, except for Adam who reached over to snatch a marshmallow off Gabriel.

The Golden Trio in question dragged three sleeping bags besides them, probably not realising they were there. Otherwise they would have been the other side of the hall, Dean reckoned. They were whispering together loudly.

“So how did he get in?” someone asked.

“Maybe he knows how to Apparate,” a Ravenclaw suggested.

Meg snorted. “Disguised himself, probably,” she sniggered, knowing the plot.

“He could have flown in,” a happy Gryffindor a year below Jo and Adam suggested.

“No wings,” Gabriel actually appeared to be considering that, “But I bet if Cass and I had them we could. It’s not like this place wards against angels.”

There was a moments silence around them, and then Hermione Granger in a cross voice said, “Honestly, am I the only person who's ever bothered to read Hogwarts, A History?"

“Probably,” the red-headed Weasley said. Dean had never bothered to remember all their names.

“Because the castle's protected by more than walls, You know,,, said Hermione. "There are all sorts of enchantments on it, to stop people entering by stealth. You can't just Apparate in here. And I'd like to see the disguise that could fool those dementors. They're guarding every single entrance to the grounds. They'd have seen him fly in too.” She paused to glare towards the Team, “And Filch knows all the secret passages, they'll have them covered...."

"The lights are going out now!" Percy the prefect shouted. "I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!"

The hall fell to a hushed murmur, broken only by Gabriel’s intermittent sniggers. There was a muffled yelp as Adam kicked him silent. Dean sighed.

He wished sometimes that they hadn’t decided to play the mentally insane card, and had gone with being subtle and sneaky. However with Gabriel and Crowley being the only Slytherin’s, and the one being as sneaky as an archangel hiding as a Trickster could be he should have realised it wouldn’t work.

Team Free Will didn’t seem to understand the meaning of subtly.

And Dean still couldn’t understand when he’d named them that and it had stuck, being unofficially accepted by the others.

Even if it had been modified to ‘Team Free Will (and those reluctantly dragged along)’.


	3. What The Hell? (Sam)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What… the hell?" 
> 
> Which is exactly what happens when Team Free Will (and others) randomly wake up in a house in England and are expected to go to magic school for entertainment to a wayward god.
> 
> SPN S7.17 & HP(pre-series)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the thing with the wands, but I wanted each to have a deep meaning and for Sam and Dean's to be Heaven/Hell opposites.
> 
> And they don't interfere to much with canon Harry Potter, having a few (if weird) interactions with the characters and nothing much beyond that. Mentally they're all adults who survived an Apocalypse, Hell, Heaven and a tonne of other monsters. They're not going to be buddy-buddy with Harry and the gang, although they will interact with them occasionally.
> 
> At this point writing it I realised this is all slightly crack. But really with the characters involved would you suspect anything else? Apologies.

**Chapter 3: Something Dean said...**

Sam woke up slowly, as if he'd been drunk the previous evening, except he hadn't been drinking… or had he…?

He and Dean had just rescued Cass from the insane asylum, the angel disorientated after healing him from his hallucinations but none the worse for wear. Somehow they also had Meg tagging along with them, although when they eventually found a motel room to crash, Dean had forced her to take a separate room.

She'd quite happily sidled away with one of their credit cards between her fingers though.

Someone groaned. Said someone had their head resting on Sam's stomach. Thinking it was Dean, he shoved the person off. Dean was the one who had gotten them a two bed room out of habit, and then had to face the consequence of his decision by sharing with Cass, who seemed worn out enough to have fallen unconscious in the car, leaving them with the issue of dragging him into the motel to a bed. Dean appeared to have decided that snoozing with little brother was obviously less embarrassing than sharing a bed with the angel who had 'raised him from perdition'.

"Ow!" a voice whined, as the head moved. "Reminder… No wild orgies for the next century."

Sam's eyes blinked open and he sat up, head swimming. The first thing he saw was Dean, doing the impression of a fish the other side of the room. His brother was on a couch, as if he'd been sleeping there, while Sam was on a mattress of some kind on the floor. Cass was still asleep… (And that in itself was weird, since when did the angel sleep?) Head resting on Dean's shoulder like a pillow. On the other side was a lump buried under a blanket which looked suspiciously like Meg.

Wow… how drunk had he been to switch motels without even realising. To switch motels and then end up drunk with a demon who had screwed them over several times, killed Pastor Jim and Caleb and set hell hounds on Jo, in the same room with no devil trap in sight.

And Dean was still looking like a fish. Staring at the person Sam had just shoved off his chest. A small kid with brown hair who was yawning widely…

"Gabriel?" Dean squeaked… and Sam looked at him again, because yes, his brother had just squeaked, and how the hell had he only just noticed that Dean was… younger.

A lot younger… Dean looked about twelve with his funny coloured blonde hair, a mix between brown and blonde and some dark form of dirt. And Castiel sleeping next to him, now blinking open wide blue eyes looked like some kind of angelic cherub because… holy f*** why was everyone ten years old?

The kid who had been sleeping on him stopped yawning, eyes widening. Wait… did Dean just say…? "Oh crap," the kid swore, and then proceeded to say some more words that no ten year old kid should know. "Winchesters." he said their name as he would a swear word along with a string of enochian which knowing the angel, probably translated to something along the lines of 'you breed with the mouth of a goat'.

"Gabriel?" Dean squeaked again, then coughed and tried to ignore his higher voice. "You're not dead?"

Gabriel looked uneasy. "How did I get here?" he asked them, and then catching sight of Sam froze. "Why are you ten?"

"Ten?" Sam said, pausing as he heard his voice, alarmed to find it at the wrong pitch. "You look like a kid. I…" he checked his voice again, and then his hands went to his face. "I'm a kid. We're kids…"

"What did you do?" Dean looked like he would strangle the archangel if it wasn't for the fact that Cass had just yawned and burrowed deeper into his shoulder, still slumbering.

"What did _I_ do? Why do you automatically assume I did something?" Gabriel even had the gall to seem indignant.

"When _don't_ you do something?" Dean hissed, trying to keep his voice down, although child-like and high pitched, it wasn't that hard to do. It was kind of cute that he wasn't trying to wake Cass…

Who was Sam kidding? Let's wake up Cass and get him to try and angel swat Gabriel. He was just about to suggest this when the demon curled up on the couch stirred, head poking out from the blankets, a dark eyed long haired girl. "Will you people shut…" she stopped talking, staring at the two on the floor, and then her head swivelled to Dean and Cass on the couch. "What?" she asked eyes wide. "No, no… I swear I didn't get involved with you guys just to get dragged into your mess!"

Gabriel's expression had shifted to one who smelt something bad in the room. "What are you guys doing hanging with a _demon_?" he tried to sound shocked but as a kid, he ended up sounding like he had a blocked nose.

"Gabriel, put it back." Dean hissed again.

"An archangel..?" Meg's voice rose. "You have got to be kidding me!"

Castiel rose at this, finally sitting up and rubbing his eyes. Everyone froze for a moment as he looked around evaluating the people in the room. "Dean." He said finally (and of course he'd look to Dean first, profound bond and all) "Why are we all eleven years old?"

Dean was already going for Gabriel. "I'll stab you so full of wooden stakes you asshole!" and it would have been impressive, if he hadn't misjudged his own height and ended up tripping over and ending up on the floor.

"I didn't do anything!" Gabriel raised his hands in a surrender position. "I swear on God, my father and all he ever did and didn't do for this freakin' world!"

Dean sat up, still glaring at him. Sam intervened. "Guys stop this. Fighting isn't going to solve anything."

Naturally they didn't listen. Or rather, Dean and Gabriel did, but Meg had had enough. " _Listen_... to this crap..? No way! I'm out of here! You folks are crazy, and not in the good way. You want me to leave you alone Dean-o, well here I go!" And she flung her head back, mouth open.

It was like that time they had broken into Crowley's place. She sat there, with nothing happening.

"Close your mouth. You'll catch a fly." Gabriel sneered at her.

"But there are no flies in the immediate vicinity." Castiel piped up, seemingly unbothered by the age change.

"You can't smoke out," Dean stared at her. "Wards..?"

Meg looked freaked out. "I can't teleport out either. Hey Cass..? Try your wings."

Nothing happened.

"Cass, man, Try and fly somewhere."

Castiel looked puzzled. "I have." He admitted reluctantly. "Nothing has happened."

Now it was Gabriel's turn to freak as he leapt to his feet, snapping his fingers. Dean and Sam simultaneously flinched but nothing changed. No TV scenarios, no chainsaw monsters. He clicked his fingers again to no avail.

"My eyes are still black right?" Meg asked, and Dean nodded at her, as they slid back to brown. She held out a hand, flicking it, but nothing moved. "I'm pathetic," she moaned. "I can't even move a door nail."

Sam scrambled to his feet, ignoring Gabriel who was still trying to spread his wings, and succeeding in only gaining a shadow. Beyond the couch was a window, curtains drawn, and he pulled them aside, grimacing at the rainy sky beyond. Outside there was a field of green with a driveway leading down to a road at the far end. Dean's Impala, an old truck and another car were parked in the driveway.

"We appear to be in England, Winchester," Castiel told him gravely, looking out at the dreary morning rain. Sam didn't like the irony of the place location being named Winchester.

"And it's freaking raining." Dean grumbled. "Stupid British weather... England… Why are we in England? What happened to America?"

Gabriel had sunk back to the floor. "I can't fly," he said with disbelief. "I… I can't do anything… not even summon up a sandwich."

"I could do with a sandwich." Dean said. "Come on, we're not going anywhere soon, and nobody evil has turned up to monologue." He stood, and looked about to stroll around to find a kitchen, but seemed to take pity on Gabriel. What was it with Dean and angels? "Come on Loki," Dean dragged the smaller kid up by his collar, "Let's find you some candy." Gabriel seemed to have gone into some kind of shock, so it was just as well Dean was looking after him…

What was Sam saying? Gabriel was the guy who had killed Dean over a hundred times and stuck him in Tuesday and TV land and had wanted them to say yes to Michael and Lucifer.

Then again he had told them about the cage. And he was silently watching Meg freak out, and she was a demon, and had helped Dean with finding Cass, so maybe he should re-evaluate his priorities for the moment.

First thing: Food.

* * *

Bobby Singer was sitting at the kitchen table.

The living room they had ended up in led right onto a corridor which seemed to keep going until it reached a large kitchen at the far end. Dean, practically dragging Gabriel, had walked right in and then frozen upon seeing Bobby at the table.

Bobby spat out the beer he was drinking. "Dean?" he asked eyes wide. "This… this isn't heaven!"

Sam entered more sedately, with Meg and Cass trailing after him. "Your idea of heaven is an anti-Dean zone?" he asked, curious.

Dean looked offended, even as he sat Gabriel in a chair like he would Sam, when he was younger. He turned to eye Cass warily. "You're not going to freak out to about losing your angel mojo are you?" he asked warily.

Castiel sighed. "I have Fallen before, Dean," he said, and Sam's brother looked mildly guilty.

"Right," Dean said, before turning to Bobby. "Hey…" he frowned, "How come you aren't ten?"

"Eleven," Castiel corrected.

Bobby shrugged. "Beats me," and sipped his beer. "I'm not sober enough for this crap." He eyed the archangel slumped in the chair. "Who's that?" his gaze drifted over to Meg, "And the chick?"

Sam swallowed. "That's Gabriel. You know… the Trickster who screwed with us. And this…" he blinked at Meg, wondering when she had stopped being a threat in his books. "This is Meg."

Bobby looked alarmed so Dean hastily placated him. "It's okay! She's not going to kill anyone."

"Yet," Sam heard Meg mutter mutinously.

"No?" Bobby looked angry. "Get her out of here! I'm not having Ellen…"

"Ellen?" Sam repeated. "Ellen is here too?"

The old drunk nodded. "I thought we were in a weird heaven and then you turn up as kids. And you're not dead so why would you be in Heaven?" he sighed, "So what's going the hell on here?"

"I don't know." Sam shrugged, heading to a fridge and opening it. It had food at least, and he decided to avoid the beer, being ten (eleven?) and all. He found some sort of pie and pulling it out, ignoring Dean's looks of reverence, stuck it on the table in front of Gabriel with a spoon Castiel managed to find somewhere.

"Eat." He told the archangel. Gabriel was still staring into the distance, with the same look on his face as Anna when she had tried angel radio.

"Or we'll stick you in holy fire," Dean threatened, and the archangel blinked.

"Oh yeah..? Where you going to get that from then Rocky? Ya' can't pull it out of Sam's ass this time!"

Meg was still testing the lengths of her demonic powers. "Hey guys…" she began hesitantly. "I think this body is mine. The soul that was in here… she's gone…"

"You mean she wasn't already dead?" Dean looked alarmed. Sam wondered if they should have tried to exorcise her before.

"Can someone deal with the demon?" Bobby asked again.

Gabriel, stuffing his face with pie while Dean looked on sadly, clicked his fingers. He sighed when nothing happened. "Someone find a pen and stick the demon in a devil's trap until we figure out what's going on."

Probably used to following orders, Castiel found a permanent marker pen in a drawer and began what Sam already knew would come out to be a perfect devil's trap. Meg looked alarmed, but when Dean pulled a familiar looking knife from his coat pocket (somehow his coat was the same, if in a smaller size) she stepped into it, glaring at them.

Then she stopped. And blinked... And stepped right out…

Gabriel stopped chewing. "Now that's very interesting."

Castiel looked confused. "I drew it correctly." He stated, and Sam, examining the lines, confirmed it.

"So what..?" Dean asked, "She's not a demon anymore?"

Meg stepped back into the symbol and then back out of it. "This is awesome!" she announced, and then at seeing everybody's pissed off faces stepped back into the trap, as if it would offer her some protections. "I'll just stay here then shall I?"

"So where is Ellen?" Sam asked Bobby.

"Checking out the house… Although this place is so big it could be called a mansion... Jo went with her."

"Jo?" Dean asked. "Jo is alive?" he then turned to Meg. "If you kill them again I'll kill you." he threatened and Meg looked suitably cowed.

Castiel frowned. "Not even an angel could bring back so many dead." He said. "Not even Michael."

Gabriel finished the pie and spun around on the chair. "Only daddy-o could manage a resurrection that big."

"Did they bring you back too?" Dean snapped at him.

The archangel looked suitably guilty. "I wasn't… uh… exactly dead… so… good job with the cage?" He gave them an impish grin.

"And you wonder why we don't like or trust you," Sam sighed, grabbing a seat. "Look, we're all here, which is good, a bunch of us are eleven…"

"Is Jo also eleven?" Castiel asked Bobby with interest. The mechanic nodded.

"And the angels and demons aren't, we're in England and…"

"Hello Boys,"

Sam and Dean's reactions were both to go for weapons, and while Dean had a knife, neither of them had their guns. They both froze though, upon seeing a small kid, with another small blond boy behind him.

Sam ignored Crowley, "Adam?" he ignored his high pitched voice.

"Nu uh..!" Crowley tugged the kid closer. "Tell me what the hell you idiots did this time otherwise you don't see your brother again! I'll toss him back into the pit for Lucifer!"

For a moment nobody spoke. Then Meg lunged from her place in the devil's trap towards Crowley. "Okay, time to die you smarmy dick!" she snapped.

"You..!" Crowley managed to get out, before the pair collapsed to the floor in a scuffle. Adam curled his lip, unimpressed before stalking over to Sam.

"Hey Sam," he said, looking unhappy. "What have you guys done this time?"

"Why do you immediately assume we've done something?" Dean threw up his hands.

Gabriel shot him a sideways glance. "Now you know how it feels." He says, and Sam rubbed his eyes, because were Dean and Gabriel freaking condoling each other on bad situations over pie?

"Stop that!" Bobby snapped at the squabbling demons. "Oi..! Knock it off! Not in my kitchen."

The pair ignored him.

There were footsteps from the corridor they'd come down, and Sam turned to see Ellen approaching, with a small blonde girl trotting after her, holding a large manila style envelope. Hearing the fighting Ellen paused, to take in the scene.

"Stop fighting!" Ellen shouted, and unbelievable Meg and Crowley froze. It seemed that not even demons wanted to cross Ellen when she was angry.

"Yeah, Meg, get back in your devil's trap and Crowley, go sit by Gabriel."

Meg sulked, but went to stand in the circle. Crowley smirked at her, but upon spotting Gabriel and Dean, the latter still playing with the demon-killing knife, he looked less happy. Castiel sidled up next to Meg, as if to keep her company while Jo joined Sam and Adam. "So," she greeted them, "I'm glad I'm not dead anymore."

"I'm glad I'm not in hell," Adam agreed with her. "I'm Adam, Sam and Dean's illegitimate half-brother."

"I'm Jo…"

"Okay, can we skip introductions?" Dean sighed. "Is anybody else going to show up anytime soon?"

Ellen took a seat next to Bobby. "Jo and I scoured the house. It's massive, but other than a puppy hell hound hiding in one of the bedrooms, we're it." She waved an envelope she pulled from a pocket, "I did find this though! It was stapled to the front door" she tossed it across to Dean who seemed to have taken a leader role. The paper was slightly soggy but the writing hadn't smeared yet.

Gabriel promptly nicked it off him. "To Team Free Will…" he frowned. "Who the hell named us that?"

Sam laughed. "Hey Dean… Mr dropout with six bucks to his name..."

His brother frowned. "But that was what… during the apocalypse?"

"That is a stupid name!" Gabriel seemed to have regained his momentum.

"Agreed," Meg piped up. Crowley glared at her since he seemed about to agree. "Can we rename ourselves?"

"We're not naming ourselves anything," the Hell King sneered. "We're working out why we're here so we can go back to normal. Have you any idea what this will do for my reputation?"

"We don't care," Adam managed to snark before Dean even opened his mouth. Sam can see why the kid was a Winchester. "Go on… Gabriel was it?" he turned to Sam. "Is he?"

"A dick..?" Sam replied. "Yes. He's currently lost his wings though."

Adam accepted that with a shrug as Gabriel opened the envelope, skimming through it.

"Well go on." Sam said, "Read it out. We're dying… and some of us are already dead… set to hearing this." His pun went unappreciated as Gabriel cleared his throat.

"Well first of all it's from God."

"Your dead-beat dad..?" Dean exclaimed.

"Lord in the sky?" Bobby repeated. "What does he want?"

Castiel was staring at the letter with some reverence in his blue gaze. "He brought Bobby, Jo, Ellen and Adam back." He said.

Gabriel nodded. "And he humanised the demons and me and Cass. Says here he's giving us a holiday. Apparently you…"

"More of the 'we'," Jo interrupted.

The Trickster glared. "We," he repeated. "Deserve a break. From Leviathans, death, demons and all things that go bump in the night. So we're living in England for the next seven years."

"What?" was said simultaneously from people in the room in various pitches.

"Yes, way," Gabriel snapped. "When He tells you to do something, you freaking well do it," he looked back at the letter, eyebrows raised. "He promises to clear up the Leviathans." He said to the group. "And to keep everyone here alive… And a whole lot of other stuff too. In exchange all we have to do is go to Hogwarts."

Sam paused. "Hogwarts." He said. "You mean like… Hogwarts..?"

Gabriel looked shocked. "He says he needs entertainment, and that going to Wizarding School should suffice. It's England, 1990, and we're going to Hogwarts."

"But one, that's a freaking book." Dean growled out, and as an eleven year old it was surprisingly cute, "Two, aside from the angels and demons we're not magic! We haven't sold our soul to demons… shut up… Crowley."

"I was just going to say," the Hell King said. "There are people who don't sell their soul for magic. It's naturally in their blood."

"Magical people are real?"

"Descendants of fairies."

Dean spluttered. "Fairies? You mean the kind like I microwaved?"

Crowley looked disgusted. "What do you guys do in your free time? Yes, fairies, other world, Avalon and all that crap. They came over here, had some disgusting half-blood kids, and occasionally pop back to bless kids with magic. The whole community is a bunch of pansy loving old fashioned heretics. Even demons don't bother to deal with them."

"We've been blessed by fairies?" Adam and Dean spoke in sync, and Sam wondered if this was why Michael could use both other them as vessels. The two were very similar.

"It appears so," Castiel announced, seemingly unbothered by any of this, as if he did it every other week as a hobby.

Meg sat down on the useless devil's trap. "This is the last time I go anywhere near you two," she glared at Sam and Dean.

"For once," Crowley said, "I agree with you. When this is over I'm never talking to the pair of you again."

Sam mentally agreed with the two demons as well, and then immediately lamented that this was the day he once again, sided with a demon.

He hated his life.

* * *

The house, turned out to be more of a mansion. The ground floor was long and based around the corridor they had followed down to the kitchen at the far end. The rooms on the right of the corridor included a massive library with seemingly every book Bobby had ever owned and had ever wished to own. The lounge was at the end, while the corridor then twisted around to a front door, with a staircase leading up to the bedrooms.

Sam seemed to have the same idea as Dean as he bolted for the bedrooms. There were five small bedrooms and one larger one upstairs with a bathroom at the end of another corridor. Dean paused.

"Dude, we can't let Crowley and Meg share a room. They'll strangle each other in their sleep or something."

"Then Dad would just bring them back," Gabriel sauntered past them. "I'll share with Cass; Jo can share with Meg… What?" he stopped at their looks.

"Meg set the hell hounds on Jo," Dean said shortly.

"Well someone is going to have to share," Sam stated. "They're ten of us and six rooms. Bobby and Ellen get the large one. Crowley and Meg and Adam get their own room, Gabriel and Cass share, Dean and I share."

Gabriel sighed. "Okay then. It isn't as if there isn't enough room." He poked his head into a room. "Hey, it seemed that Dad thought ahead. All your stuff is in here!"

Dean pushed him aside entering the room. His eyes lit up at seeing their weapons and belongings, but fell as he pulled out his clothes. "He shrunk my leather jacket," he complained. "This was new! And he shrunk it! I'll grow out of it in a few years or so!"

Ignoring Dean's complaints, Sam checked out the other rooms. While theirs and the angels had two beds, the rest were singles with the exception of Bobby and Ellen's… and after Balthazar's Titanic incident when the pair had ended up married he wasn't going to question that. Not one bit. He wasn't even going to think about it.

Nope.

Downstairs Ellen was still lecturing Meg and Crowley on why they couldn't kill each other. Adam was making sandwiches and Bobby was looking through the manila folder filled with information on their extended 'holiday'. When Sam entered the kitchen a yellowed paper envelope was thrust at him.

"Congratulations," Dean snickered as he walked over to help Adam (and somehow apologise for leaving him in Hell. "You're a wizard, Harry."

Sam tried to hit him, but Dean was just that bit taller than him now. He settled for glaring at his brother.

"If its 1990," Adam frowned, "Does that mean Harry Potter will be going there next year?"

Sam turned to look at him. "I don't know. I haven't actually read the books. Didn't think you had, Dean?"

"Saw the first movie," Dean said, buttering bread, and Sam stared at the silver knife, far more used to Dean stabbing something rather than buttering bread. He never knew Dean could be so domestic; then again he'd missed out on Dean's domestic life with Lisa. "Ben watched it once."

Jo shook her head. "I've never seen it."

Various other head shaking and Adam looked shocked. "But it's a classic," he protested. "Do demons not read or something?"

"We've got better things to do with our time, mini-Winchester." Meg curled her lip at him.

"Do you reckon it’s like with Chuck?" Sam asked, thoughtfully. "That they were always real and someone sold story rights to Rowling?"

Adam was pouting. "It's not like it really matters, since I'm the only one who has any clue about the plot."

"So we don't change too much stuff then," Gabriel replied. "Wouldn't want to get involved with another world saving adventure now would we? He said this was a holiday, then I fully intend to make it one. So no getting involved - agreed?"

There were nods and mumbled agreements from the newly named 'Team Free Will'.

Castiel was leafing through papers. "According to these birth records, Sam and Dean are twins born to Bobby and Karen Winchester on November 2nd 1978."

Sam didn't find that date amusing. From the way one of the slices of bread had gained a hole, neither did Dean.

"Adam Winchester is their younger brother born September 29th 1979. Yet he's still going to be in the same year as us. Karen died in childbirth."

At least it wasn't six months later, Sam figured.

"That's my actual birthday. Well the date, not the year." Adam looked impressed, "But I take it neither of you are born on November 2nd?"

"We're not twins either," Dean pointed out helpfully. "Jan 24th for me and May 2nd for Sam."

Castiel frowned. "Isn't Sam's birthday the date Dean went to hell?"

Sam winced. Dean bit his lip. "Sam's birthday sucked. Which reminds me, thanks man, for bringing me back four months later. It was his best ever birthday present, even if it was late."

"I don't understand."

Gabriel stole the papers off his 'brother'. "Don't worry little bro." he said, looking for his own page. "I'm the oldest, born September 4th 1978 with Castiel born August 20th 1979. Surname of Novak. Parents unknown. Older brothers, Lucifer and Michael Novak, both in prison." He snickered. "Serves them right. We got adopted when we were six or something by Bobby and Ellen and apparently we're Sam and Dean's second cousins or something."

"Great," Adam sighed, "Related to angels."

"Jo Harvelle, born April 7th, is the daughter of Bill and Ellen Harvelle before Ellen and Bobby remarried… wait… they're married?" Gabriel whistled, "Wouldn't have guessed it."

"How do Crowley and Meg tie in?" Sam asked, glancing to where Crowley was testing that devil's traps didn't work on him, and Meg was sitting next to Castiel. He was vividly reminded of their kiss ("I learned it from the pizza man.") and he mentally shuddered.

"Ellen's godchild, Meg Masters, born 1979 July 29th , needed a home after her parents Azazel and Lilith Masters died in a car crash."

Now Dean snickered. Sam smiled to at the irony. Meg just looked offended at the thought of having Lilith and Azazel as her parents. Then again she was Azazel's 'daughter'.

"Crowley MacLeod is also adopted, born May 30th, no listed parents. He's probably a street kid they picked up being too kind-hearted for their own good," Gabriel finished, dumping the sheaves of paper back on the table. Crowley spluttered, making a grab for it and looking for his own documents.

"No way," he complained, "I refuse to be a homeless orphan like Rocky and Bullwinkle."

"Who?" Castiel frowned.

"Rocky and… oh never mind." Crowley glared at Castiel, and all things considered he probably had a bone to pick with the angel since the last time they had met, Cass had been God and had just double-crossed him, but Ellen must have succeeded in scaring him into submission.

"They're nicknames Clarence," Meg said, "For Dean and Sam. It's from a TV show about this squirrel and moose…" Sam mentally tuned out her explanation.

Dean had stolen a sandwich and was heading towards what looked like a backdoor. "Going to check on my bab… my car." He corrected himself. "Anyone coming?"

"We all know she's your baby," Sam called after him. Crowley surprisingly followed Dean, still looking like he wanted to kill Castiel or Meg. It was probably better he left then.

Sam sighed, going over to the pile of sandwiches Adam was making. This was going to be horrible.

* * *

"This is horrible," Dean complained, a day later, as he stood as at clothes shop in London, down a dingy street where things moved without being touched and people wearing dresses and pointy hats wandered with sticks. What was worse was while this was going on, there was no killing involved (and Sam knew how much Dean hated witches) instead they went shopping and were being dressed in his own 'robe' which was apparently the school uniform.

Gabriel chewed on the end of a candy cane, and Sam didn't know where he had gotten that. Meg and Castiel were with Bobby and Ellen, the former being helpful and trying not to incur the wrath of Ellen. Jo was still eyeing her warily, but was more interested in quizzing Cass, who seemed to take everything in his stride.

Crowley and Gabriel had already been fitted and had chosen to stay and mock the brothers. It was an unholy alliance in Sam's opinion, and never one he'd ever thought he'd see in a million years.

Through the window Sam saw Adam appear from the pet shop carrying a cage. "I think Adam found a pet. Crowley don't kill it."

The demon looked shocked. "Why would I want to kill the feathered rat?" he sneered, peering at the brown Tawny Owl in the cage. "You guys need it for communicating with home base… I apparently don't need to communicate with my demons since I'm in the wrong time."

They all paused for thought. "Whatever we do," Dean said slowly. "We don't pray to Michael. Or Raphael. Or Zachariah."

Sam silently agreed with him, as he hopped down off the stool. He hated being this short… he was about the same size as Gabriel and Crowley. Hell even Cass and Meg were taller.

The woman bundled up their purchases and Gabriel handed over the required currency.

"Where are the rest?" Dean asked, when they got back to the alley to find everyone had vanished into the crowd.

"They said they were going to get wands." Gabriel pulled a candy bar out from a pocket and opened it. "I said we'd join them but first I thought you two bozos would like that." He pointed towards a sign that hung crookedly on the wall, leading down to a dank alley.

"Knockturn Alley." Dean sighed. "Nocturnally. Do these people like their puns?"

Crowley poked his head down there. "Looks like my kind of place." He grinned.

"So what do we want with it?" Dean demanded as Crowley vanished down the alleyway.

"Oh, you know," Gabriel smirked. "They sell all sorts of stuff. Potions, weapons, charms, old books…" Dean was gone at 'weapons' and Sam had followed shortly after when 'old books' had popped up. With a laugh Gabriel skipped after them.

Sam knew straight away this was not a street kids should really be heading down. Dean stopped to pick up Crowley from where he was admiring a cursed necklace in a shop window, and the pair continued to lead them like bloodhounds to a decent shop.

* * *

Half an hour later and suitably geared up, they appeared at the wand shop. Nothing seemed to have happened, and Meg was standing waiting with Adam while Cass was waving around sticks.

There was a small bang as they entered and the stick was snatched away by a wizened old man who darted spryly away to snatch up another both, pulling out yet another stick and giving it to Cass to wave.

Sam thought the sticks looked practically identical.

"Hello Dean-o," Meg greeted. "So Jo and I have wands now."

Jo seemed to have forgotten how much she hated the demon as she bounced over to them. "Apple wood with a sphinx hair. How cool is that?"

"A sphinx?" Dean looked alarmed, "You mean those woman-cats that ask people riddles?"

"It makes sense." Sam said. "Apple wood is associated with female energy while sphinx's well…" he tried to think how it fit Jo, “It's a cat." He realised finally. "Opposite of a hell hound…"

Jo's eyes widened and Dean just looked annoyed. "Dude, could you be any geekier?"

There was a bang from the front and a pile of books went flying to the ground. Castiel was looking a little ruffled, hair in disarray.

"Castiel can't find his wand. He's been at it for a while now." Meg sighed.

"He looks stupid waving a stick around," Dean whispered.

"What's yours then?" Sam asked the demon curiously.

"Dragon heart string from something called a Peruvian Vipertooth and yew wood."

"Most venomous dragon," Olivander directed to their conversation. "It seems that with you… oh no not that one…" he stole Cass's stick and gave him another one. "There, holly and phoenix feather maybe… or not… you lot seem something more than the average student. I usually make wands with only dragon heartstrings, unicorn hairs or phoenix feathers, but I have some made by my predecessor who used a wider range of… less traditional substances."

Sam looked over to where Cass had another wand; Olivander presented it to him with a flourish. "Phoenix feather and alder wood... I think this is…" he didn't get to finish as golden sparks shot out of the end, instead grinning madly.

Gabriel joined Sam. "Alder wood is associated with Apollo," he told them, "God of music and prophecy. It also helps you face up to stuff you've been avoiding. Combine that with a phoenix…"

"Rebirth," Dean grinned. "Cass is good at that."

"Yeah, well, whatever," Gabriel stepped forwards to go next.

Gabriel got his far quicker than Castiel found his wand. Willow, with basilisk scale… "Archangel of the moon," he told them when he strolled back. "Willow is the tree of the moon."

"And the snake scale is because you're related to a giant serpent," Dean grumbled.

"What?" Adam looked confused.

"Jormungandr," Sam explained. "World serpent..." He still wasn't sure if Gabriel was actually Loki, was just pretending to be Loki while the pagan god took a vacation or was using the god as vessel, but either way, the link was there.

Crowley ended up with an oak ("royalty, power,") and the powdered knuckle-bone of a Hungarian Horntail ("The most deadly dragon"). Castiel took over Gabriel's job and was practically spouting off knowledge with Sam chiming in occasionally. He was still a bit disturbed that both the demons got dragon parts in their little twigs, but then again Gabriel got a snake while Cass got the bird, so it was all relative really.

Adam went next, and got laurel ("they used to use it to protect people from the 'sky gods'" – and Sam winced at that one) and unicorn tail hair ("purity and good intention.")

Dean sighed and glanced at Sam. "You going?" he asked.

"You first..."

Dean stepped forwards, and Sam watched as the old man scurried around, and pulled forwards several boxes. Unlike the others who had gotten theirs on their third or fourth wand (or Cass who went through about twenty) Dean got his first time round. "Cedar." Olivander told him, handing over the box. "With… well… according to my father he used the feather of a being that had appeared to him in a beam of light. He couldn't hear or see it, but was left with the piece of magic in the shape of a feather and a name."

Dean had stiffened. "What name?" he asked.

"Mi'ka'el…" Olivander said it with three syllables. The name might not have been immediately apparent that it was the same, but Dean dropped the wand nonetheless.

"Can't I find another one?" he demanded.

Olivander picked up the wand, looking at him disapprovingly. "Now that one has picked you, you will find no other as good."

Sam's brother still looked pissed when he took the box handed to him. Until recently he had looked happy, as he looked when fixing his baby… (His car… his car… Sam did not just call it baby…) but now he looked at it with distaste.

Dean handed it silently to Adam, who tried it out. "No." he shook his head. "I can… sort of feel it… but not like mine. It must be because you were his true sword. I was just a substitute."

"Don't say that about yourself kid," the blonde said fiercely. "You're family. They're dicks. No offense." He directed to Cass and Gabriel. The former didn't seem to care and the latter shrugged.

"Don't tell him this," Gabriel whispered in Sam's ear. "But Cedar is the tree of the sun and Michael… well… he's the archangel of the sun."

Sam winced. Now all they needed was for this adventurous wand-maker to have used demon blood in one of his creations.

Dean was right. Sam did feel stupid waving various sticks. Eventually though, there was one which was different. The rush reminded him of the demon blood, and he quickly quashed that thought down. "Hawthorn and ichor from a hellhound," Sam barely suppressed the flinch: Demon blood… hellhound blood… what was it with him and blood? Dean too looked 100% done with this crazy guy.

"To ward against evil," Gabriel looked guilty. "And well… to guard, protect. The hounds weren't always a symbol of hunting."

Sam hated the irony of that last statement.

* * *

"We have to  _what_?"

Sam sighed, wishing he could just sit down and eat. It had been a long day, all from having to find a platform that by all reasoning should not exist. Adam, who seemed to be the only one who had read the books, said it was at nine-and-three-quarters, and despite how running into a barrier between two platforms was not the weirdest thing Sam had done, it had proved nearly impossible to find the right barrier.

Still, watching Dean lean on all the walls in sight had been amusing.

They'd booked an apartment on the train for the eight of them, squashing up four to a seat. It was either that or split into two, but no-one seemed happy with each other yet. Gabriel was still hated by both Sam and Dean, despite actually getting along with the latter due to their shared knowledge of having brothers or something Sam didn't get, because he still wasn't over Mystery Spot, as proved by the death of the radio when it started to play 'Heat of the Moment' sometime last month.

Cass got along with everyone except Adam (who had a thing about angels after Michael) and Crowley (who was still sore about the backstabbing). Meg seemed to be trying to act like the perfect godchild to Ellen, but remained the brash demon Sam was used to, which was a nice change from all the horrible normal and domestic going on.

The train journey was interesting to say the least, and Sam was glad it was over.

He wasn't glad he was standing in line (waiting until last because his surname started with 'W' and 'S' came after 'A' and 'D'). He'd expected the teachers to pick the houses from what he had read. There was no actual mention of the method used, and now Sam knew why. Actually, he was still debating whether the author thought it would sound stupid or because they wanted to keep the 'tradition' secret, but either way…

Sam had missed most of the names, but had heard some and saw them go off to their respective colour tables.

"Bell, Katie," "GRYFFINDOR!" was the first, and it went through the alphabet until finally, "Harvelle, Joanna," got to go first out of the Team. Despite Gabriel and the demons insistence on how stupid the name was, Dean had enforced it, and since he was their current leader, they surprisingly listened to him.

Sam watched as a woman placed the talking hat on Jo's head. It had sung a song at the start, making Sam and Dean jump for their knives to try and end the freaking thing and Adam had none too subtly stood on Sam's foot while elbowing Dean in the ribs.

The hat seemed to debate it for a moment or two. In Sam's mind it was obvious. She was brave and reckless, as shown when she volunteered to be bait for Sam and Dean's ghost. She had died because she turned tried to turn back to save Dean. The hat seemed to agree as it shouted out "GRYFFINDOR!"

Only then did it occur to Sam that they were going to be separated. Ah, well. They'd just have to do something about that.

"Masters, Meg." And Sam wished she hadn't used that name, but it was what was written on her birth certificate. "HUFFLEPUFF."

It made sense if he thought about it. She had always reported back to Azazel, right? ("Look, I'm simpler than you think. I've figured one thing out about this world – just one, pretty much. You find a cause, and you serve it. Give yourself over, and it orders your life. Lucifer and Yellow Eyes – their mission was it for me.") He'd honestly thought she'd be a Slytherin, but since Crowley was probably going to be in that house…

"MacLeod, Crowley."

Another simple one, Sam thought. Crowley was a demon. The stereotype was Slytherin equalled evil, apparently, but that was stupid. Slytherin's were cunning and loyal to their own goals and ambitions. Crowley's search for Purgatory proved that. He'd also used someone else to do his dirty work – Samuel Campbell… Brady… he didn't get his hands dirty.

"SLYTHERIN!" the hat declared and Sam smirked. He should do this for a living.

"McLaggen, Cormac," "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Novak, Castiel," followed almost immediately. Sam was still debating between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.

"HUFFLEPUFF." Sam twisted to see Meg looked happy at that choice. He agreed, Castiel's loyalty to God, to Dean, to him too, to some extent… he went to whatever extremes he could to keep his friend's safe, regardless of the consequences. Personally Sam thought Cass might have been the 'nerd angel' Dean always said he was, but it seemed not.

("I always come when you call.")

"Novak, Gabriel." Whispers ran around the hall at the brothers. Gabriel ignored it, practically skipping up to the hat.

Sam didn't even waste the energy being surprised at the announcement. "SLYTHERIN!" One word: Trickster.

Not to mention he'd managed to fake his death three times.

Finally it rolled around to Winchester, Adam, and Sam wished him good luck quietly as Adam strolled up to the hat.

"GRYFFINDOR!" Adam skipped off to join Jo, and Sam wondered if the youngest Winchester was more similar to Dean that he realised.

"Winchester, Dean."

He exchanged a look with his brother before leaving. The hat was silent a while, probably arguing with Dean. Sam was prepared to bet on Gryffindor. Dean was brave, reckless with stupid ideas (such as selling his soul). He wasn't sly at the best of times and could rarely manage to come up with a decent comeback. ("But I forgot you two at best are functional morons." "Yeah, you're functioning morons... moron.")

Instead though, the hat twisted its face in a pensive look before calling out "HUFFLEPUFF!"

Dean seemed happy, joining Castiel, purposely sitting between the angel and demon. Sam wondered if that was why he was there, to protect Cass from Meg. Dean was too freaking loyal to the angel sometimes. He almost laughed when he realised that was the key. Dean was too loyal – to his family, his friends… loyal (and stupid) enough to sell his own soul to keep one alive.

"Winchester, Samuel."

Sam didn't have time to be annoyed at the long version of his name, or to worry about the people staring at him (seriously, did this have to be done in front of the whole school?) before he was at the front and a hat was being dropped onto his head, sliding over his eyes.

Once again, he almost jumped when a voice echoed in his ear. "Hmm, I hope you're the last of this 'Team' I keep meeting."

Yeah. Sam managed not to reach for his knife. Sorry.

"You lot are interesting. You especially… reckless and brave…but loyal…" Sam felt a bit indignant, because that was Dean's line, but then recalled his last reckless act had kick-started the Apocalypse. The hat didn't seem to be able to read that deeply though. It kept talking, debating with itself. "Cunning… but not ambitious… You merely want to make the best of a bad situation. I know… we have just the house for those who seek knowledge like you… RAVENCLAW!"

The hat was yanked off his head and Sam stumbled to his feet, oddly happy and disappointed with his choice. He headed towards the blue house, wishing he could have joined someone he knew… even if it was Gabriel and Crowley.

He took a seat next to a pair of giggly girls, feeling really alone.

The twinkly eyed headmaster with a long beard spoke. Dumbledore addressed the hall only briefly before announcing to them to start eating. Sam blinked as food appeared in front of him.

"Hi, I'm Marietta," one of the girls said.

Sam was silent, realising for the first time he was nervous. How was he supposed to make friends with these… children… after all he had been through…?

"Sam." He said. "Hi." It couldn't hurt to try, could it?

"Cho. So apparently you have two brothers? Triplets?" the other girl asked.

"No…" he struggled for words, still staring at the food, not sure what to do. "Dean and I are twins." He said eventually, remembering their cover. "Adam's a year younger, but they let him in our year because we're really close."

("Sam and Dean are psychotically, irrationally, erotically co-dependent on each other…")

He swallowed, his throat dry, and looking automatically for Dean, but not spotting him. The Ravenclaw table was in the middle, flanked by the Hufflepuff table against the wall with the lion table behind him, Slytherin at the far end. He couldn't see Dean anywhere or Cass for that matter.

"Looking for me?" a voice said behind him and he turned to see Dean grinning, Meg lounging behind him. "Come on," Dean pulled him upright. "We're going to join Gabe and Crowley."

Sam wondered if he should be disturbed that Gabriel had already become 'Gabe' to Dean, but as it was he barely had time to wave a goodbye to the two girls before Dean was pulling him down the aisle towards the end, while Meg picked up Jo and Adam along the way.

Cass was already there, and it seemed like Gabriel had saved them seats. "Hey guys," he said, as they sat down, passing a plate along loaded with food. "At least we won't starve."

"You…" a student with a green tie glared at them as the six students joined their house table. "You're not in Slytherin."

Dean grinned impudently. "Well I can safely say, dude, you are  _not_  colour blind."

The student glared harder. "You're not allowed to be on our table." He hissed, much like a snake Sam mused, as he finally got to taste the food.

"Says who?" Gabriel responded. "They're my friends." That shouldn't have made Sam feel so happy either. "I say they can sit here."

The student didn't appear to know what to say to that. His friend joined in. "You're not purebloods are you?" he said with a sniff.

Dean paused mid-mouthful, but didn't swallow quickly enough to prevent Cass from answering, "Our blood is entirely pure, unless you count Sam, Meg and Crowley who…" Dean settled for slamming a hand over his angel's mouth.

"Discretion Cass," Dean sighed. "We've got to teach it to you."

"They're half-bloods?  _Mudbloods_?" the friend sneered.

Sam got the feeling they weren't talking about the same thing.

Crowley bristled. "Excuse me?"

"Your parents were muggles?" the first student said with distaste.

Sam knew muggle meant non-magical. Thankfully Adam (who had actually read the books) piped up at this moment. "Yeah... Except for Meg and Crowley who are purebloods and Gabriel and Castiel are half-bloods. Their father was a wizard." He shot Sam a helpless look. "What does it matter to you?" he finished.

"Filth," the second student sneered, turning away. "You don't deserve to sully this table." Sam blinked, because surely he had gotten that insult wrong…

Gabriel grinned, having picked up on it, and Sam had a bad feeling. "Oh mate. I don't think you could sully this table anymore if you tried," Yup, bad feeling proved right. Dean burst into laughter and Meg almost choked on her mouthful. Castiel didn't appear to get it.

Sam tried to hide a grin as the guy turned around. "What did you say?!" the guy hissed loudly, attracting the attention of half the table.

He also succeeded in attracting the attention of the teachers.

"What is going on here?" a smooth voice belonging to a greasy haired man interrupted them. "You do know…" he directed towards the six at the wrong table, "That you are sitting in the wrong place."

"We are aware," Castiel stated.

"Are you trying to be funny?" the man hissed.

"No."

And the funny thing was, Castiel wasn't, and his straight face and honest tone made the greasy haired teacher pause, unsure of what to say. "No, sir," He corrected. "Now go back to your correct table."

Nobody moved.

"We're friends." Sam tried to explain.

"Well you can be friends at some other time than meal times." The teacher responded dryly. "Now scram."

Dean just relaxed into his seat. "And if we don't?" he said, "Are you going to drag us?"

The second student smirked, probably expecting punishment to be dealt. The teacher (who Sam realised was Snape… his hair was greasier than he had imagined…) glared at Dean. "You will go now… Mr…"

"Winchester." Sam, Dean and Adam somehow managed to say this in sync. "You see…" Sam continued. "We're family. And we were raised isolated and I've been told that me and Dean share a co-dependent relationship and so to avoid such a thing we decided to sit together since we're all practically family and…" he stopped when Snape's glare turned to him.

"You're in a relationship with your twin?" the first student looked disgusted, as if the meaning of co-dependent didn't exist in his mind.

"Yes," Meg stated happily. "Sam and Dean are secretly sleeping together. Be thankful you don't have to share a room with them because boy, are they loud."

The first student choked on his mouthful.

"Enough," Snape snapped. "You will desist this vile nonsense and…"

"Problem, Severus?"

Sam glanced behind to see a twinkly eyed Dumbledore.

"No sir," Snape said stiffly. "I was merely encouraging these children to seek friends at their own table."

Dumbledore eyed the group, gaze skimming over the three yellow and black ties (of who would probably go down as the two bravest, stupidest, most stubborn and idiotic Hufflepuffs in history along with the one who was just _weird_ ), the two red and gold ties (who would be the calmest and most rational Gryffindors), the two green and silver and Sam's own blue and bronze. It was quite nice that they changed colour automatically for you after you were sorted. "I don't think this is a bad thing Severus," he said calmly. "Let the children eat together. They knew each other before… yes?"

"We're family." Sam repeated ignoring Crowley's gagging noise in the background or Meg's sniff. "We've been through some… unique situations together."

That was if you counted Apocalypses as unique... Really in Sam and Dean's life it was practically an everyday occurrence.

Dumbledore eyed them for another moment. "Leave it Severus," he said at last. "They are breaking no rules. And a bit of house unity is good for Hogwarts."

The black cloaked teacher was stiff as he nodded and strolled off back towards the head table. Dumbledore turned to follow but paused, "You should seek friends from beyond your family," he told them.

Mentally Sam assumed each and every one of them was thinking something along the lines of 'Yeah, right' but Dumbledore didn't notice as he headed back to the head table.

Dinner was considerable calmer after that.


	4. Just Enough to Make Us Dangerous (Jo)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first week: Jo didn’t think it would go so fast. Then again she didn’t think Gabriel would get revenge on greasy hair, Sam and Dean would somehow find a hunt at a school for kids, they’d have flying lessons, or they’d get lost several dozen times.

**Chapter 4: Exercise a demon…**

In the first week Jo and Adam got lost a minimum of five times. Once they had been aiming for a dungeon, but somehow ended up on the fourth floor on a wing filled with shiny suits of armour. This place needed a map.

Of course to contrast them, Dean and Castiel didn’t get lost once. Then again Dean just trailed his pet angel around with the freaky sense of direction. Jo personally thought Gabriel could avoid getting lost too, but he enjoyed walking in late complaining about how the castle needed a map.

Hers and Adam’s lessons were shared with at least one other member of Team Free Will (as they had been dubbed). Most of the time they were with Gabriel and Crowley... Apparently it was because Slytherin and Gryffindors didn’t get on; although why that made it acceptable to put them in the same class Jo didn’t know.

They were the exception to the rule however, and the greasy haired Professor Snape had death-glared at them in potions when he had forced them to switch partners, teaming up her and Gabriel, while Adam and Crowley were left to work together, and instead of the bickering he had expected, they just got on with the work and produced a decent potion.

“Just like cooking,” Gabriel had said happily, and considering they had just managed to translate instructions which read something like:

6) +dsy. rt. (7 p.), stir (clk.)—scar.

7) +rat spl. (x1), stir (clk. x12, cc. x1)—p. yel., +leech juc., simmer (11 m.)—ac. grn.

9) +slc. ctrplr. (13 p.), simmer—f. grn.

Jo was quite pleased with her potion. “More like chemistry,” she had said, checking to see what defined ac green compared to f (fern maybe?) green.

Sam was with them for Transfiguration, while Dean, Cass and Meg shared a defence class with them. The teacher had started off with the question “What do you need to protect yourself against?” and then proceeded to get a long list from the five members of the Team.

“Ghouls,” Adam had chimed in first.

“Ghosts,” Jo added.

“Wendigos, Demons, Werewolves, Vampires, Reapers, Shapeshifters, Rakshakas, Pagan Gods,”

“Archangels,” Adam added to Dean’s list.

“Rugarous, Serial killers, Djinns, Dragons, Hellhounds…” Dean continued. “Oh and Croates… short for Croatoans. And Leviathans.”

“I’m sorry,” the teacher had frowned. “What’s a Leviathan?”

The Team paused in their epic list. Meg opened her mouth to answer and then thought better, closing it again. The teacher who had managed to keep up with their fast paced list examined it.

“Yes,” she admitted, looking down it, “To most of these. Except…” she circled ‘demons’ and ‘archangels’ “Demons and angels don’t exist.”

Castiel frowned. “How can you discount the existence of a creature just because you haven’t met one?” He and Meg both seemed a bit indignant at being told they didn’t exist.

“Faith,” Dean elbowed the angel and the two seemed to share their private joke.

The teacher sighed, “Because there’s no proof,” she said, with finality to it. “Also…” she rubbed out ‘angels’ and ‘demons’ and gestured to ‘pagan gods’ “This is another myth. You’re confusing reality with mythology dear.” She said to Dean. “I believe that is where Leviathan’s come from.”

“You can cross out Croates,” Dean responded, sullenly. “Since they’re dead and all… Will zombies work better?”

“Attitude Mr Winchester,” she chided him, but did as he said. “Also by hellhounds I think you mean a Grim. Reapers don’t exist, and ghosts don’t pose a threat.”

Jo coughed, “But what about vengeful spirits?” she protested.

“Miss Harvelle,” the teacher levelled a beady eye at her. “Have any of the spirits in this establishment posed a threat to you?”

She shuddered. “They’re different,” she tried to explain. “The magic keeps them sane.”

Dean spoke up, and she was surprised at his tone. “If you lose your reaper,” he said, “And you chose not to die… you stay behind as a spirit. And you stay trapped in one place until it drives you mad and eventually whether you like it or not you’ll start killing. Never met any of those or are all ghosts here harmless?”

“The ghosts of Hogwarts pose you no threat Mr Winchester.” The teacher reassured him.

“So no salt or iron anywhere..?” Adam asked. They’d been teaching him hunting techniques.

The professor just looked puzzled. “What does salt and iron do?”

********************************

“I can’t believe these people don’t even know ghosts are hurt by salt and iron!” Jo ranted later that day, tagging after Sam and Dean. The pair was sneaking out to the nearby village for reason she could not yet discern.

“We threw salt at the creepy bloody guy on the green table,” Dean said, apparently he hadn’t yet memorised the house names. “When he vanished everyone looked surprised. He hasn’t reappeared there when we sit there anymore.”

“That friendly poltergeist doesn’t throw stuff at us anymore,” Sam said, smirking. “After we threatened to shoot him with rock salt...”

“I thought that was because Gabriel made some sort of deal with him,” Jo stumbled as they arrived at the fence. Really, they were practically walking off the grounds, she was surprised nobody noticed.

Sam went over first, pausing at the top to give her a hand. Dean ignored the help and made a running jump, gripping the top and practically catapulting over it. Jo rolled her eyes at his showing off. Even being eleven hadn’t changed him.

Twelve soon, she corrected, since today had been November 2nd, and really, sticking Sam and Dean’s birthday on the same day their mother died was a cruel act. Mentally she cursed God, who was probably laughing his head off at their antics like he was watching a TV show.

“Where are we going?” she asked, as the pair set a course for the village.

“Well you know that one teacher?” Dean asked.

“The history professor,” Sam continued.

“The ghost who is…”

“Really boring..?”

Jo wondered if the Weasley twins had been training them to speak alternate lines. “Yes.” She said warily, wondering where this way going.

“Well he’s buried in the Hogsmeade cemetery,” Dean finished with a grin, holding up a salt shaker and while Sam shook the bottle of kerosene. “So you in..?”

Jo stared at them in disbelief, before grinning. “Oh yes.” She said. “I am so totally in!”

********************************

They were still laughing by the time they staggered back up to the front door at two in the morning, muddy and wet. Jo had a leaf in her hair and Dean’s lip was bleeding. Sam froze first, spotting the teachers, and Jo almost walked into him.

“Uh…” Dean stuck a grin on his bruised pretty face. “Hello Professor.”

McGonagall glared at him. “Would you like to explain what you were doing outside the grounds?” she demanded.

Sam’s one shoulder slumped and his arm came up behind his back, fingers flashing some quick sign that Jo missed but Dean understood as Sam spoke. “We wanted to see the village,” he said, “I know we can’t go until third year so Dean and I went out, considering we had a free day with no lessons and it was our birthday. Jo tagged along since Gabriel and Crowley were getting drunk.”

Jo recognised the technique. Avoid any mention of graves or bones. Draw attention to something else.

It didn’t work. “You didn’t happen to stop by a graveyard did you?” she asked them, icily.

Dean’s eyes widened. “Graveyard?” he squeaked. “There’s a graveyard… awesome... dude I cannot believe we missed that!”

The teacher seemed to relax slightly. “Detention,” she said icily. “To the both of you for a month,” Her gaze slid past to Jo, “And you to Miss Harvelle. Now go get cleaned up.” She sighed.

Jo could have sworn she heard the professor say something along the lines of ‘Not another pair of twins’ as they scurried past, but she might have been imagining it.

********************************

That incident spread, and although nobody ever quite connected proof of the disappearance of Professor Binns to the brother’s midnight stroll, they were still hailed as heroes.

Admittedly while most students became popular for good skills at the broomstick sport, or being really clever, Sam and Dean got attention for hunting. Right up until the point Sam seemed to have enough and began talking loudly about angels in the Great Hall.

“Is Michael still alive in this time?” he began, which didn’t pick up that much attention initially. Jo was still learning the story of what had happened, but she knew little bits like Sam and the last seal, Dean and Adam and Michael…

Gabriel paused mid-chew. “He’s still alive in our time,” he reminded them. “Just in the cage…”

“Where do angels and demons go when they die?” Sam said, raising his voice a bit. They’d decided today not to irk the green ties anymore and were at the friendlier badger table.

Someone coughed, almost choking on their food. “Angels?” the guy asked, a year above them, brown hair and dark eyes. “Angels don’t exist.”

“How do you know?” Dean asked smugly.

“I…” he stopped, and actually seemed to consider that. “Well if that’s what you want to believe…” he said eventually. “Cedric Diggory,” he held out a hand and Dean shook it, introducing them in turn. The poor guy looked a bit disorientated at the group.

“There’s a lot of you.” he noted, which Jo thought was pretty obvious. “You know each other quite well.”

“Well yeah,” Gabriel drawled. “We’re family.” And he paused, frowning at that for a bit. “Cass and I are brothers, and Winchester three over there. We live together.”

“Unfortunately,” Crowley muttered under his breath. Jo wished sometimes that Crowley and Meg were more like the other demons she’d met, and not the seemingly sane ones.

“Big family,” Cedric commented. “You all get along? I don’t know what it’s like – I’m an only child.”

“Crowley and Meg hate each other,” Adam said with his mouth full.

“Chew first,” Jo advised, before adding, “That’s true though. Dean and Sam have this creepy ‘can’t live without the other thing’ going on… don’t try to deny it Sasquatch.” She used Gabriel’s nickname for Sam. “Sam’s a bit wary of Gabriel because he used to prank Sam really badly…” That was one way of putting it, “And I don’t really like Crowley because he has this horrible pet dog.”

“We have a lot of issues with each other,” Castiel spoke up from where he was glued to Dean’s side. “But there’s good stuff as well as bad. Gabriel saved Sam and Dean’s life once. Meg helped me and Dean out. Crowley risked himself to help.” He paused, and Jo knew he was trying to censor his words.

“Wow,” Diggory looked impressed. “No wonder three of you are Hufflepuff’s with loyalty like that.”

“What’s loyalty got to do with the house?” Dean asked, confused.

Sam glared at him. “It’s how they sort people, idiot.” He was pulling a bitch face at his brother. “Didn’t you listen to the singing hat?”

“No.” Dean looked alarmed. “It’s a singing hat. Who listens to a singing hat? Then it started talking in my ear and that was just damn creepy. Magicians man,” he rested his head in his hands. “I am so not looking forward to broomsticks.”

“Why not..?” Cedric seemed alarmed, “Flying is the best sport!”

Sam and Dean simultaneously shook their heads as Dean said, “Hunting.”

“Far better,” Sam admitted, “Even if it does…”

“Mean all your friends are dead,” Dean finished for his little brother, and Jo wondered if they’d been secretly practising how to finish each other’s sentences, and then realised that fraternal twins or not, they had grown up together since Dean was four, and Sam wasn’t even a year, in a closed environment with nobody but each other, their father always out on hunts.

Jo wondered what she would have turned out like, if she got left at the Roadhouse with no Ellen around. The brothers hadn’t even had that sanctity of home; all they’d had were crappy motel rooms, forty bucks for the week and their car, dad popping in occasionally.

And really, while Dean had a dad in John, Sam never had that... His parent, brother and mentor had always been and would always be Dean. While Dean had looked up to John, Sam had looked up to Dean.

No wonder they didn’t have to practise the twin thing.

********************************

Flying, as Dean had predicted, didn’t go down too well with the Team. And when Jo said that, she really meant flying hadn’t gone down to well with Dean. Castiel and Gabriel didn’t seem to mind, although both used to have wings and there was probably some unspoken issue there. Why were brooms allowed to fly and they couldn’t?

“Clipped wings,” Crowley had muttered, staring mutinously as they lined up for their first set of flying lessons. “This isn’t going to go well.” He and Meg seemed to prefer their teleporting method of travel.

Jo seemed to be the only one looking forward to it. Apparently Adam shared Dean’s dislike of heights.

 “This is… this should be illegal,” Dean stared at the thin wooden broomstick on the ground.

Jo giggled.

“What’s the matter Dean-o? Don’t know how to handle a broom?” Meg teased him, standing opposite him, next to Gabriel, who she was currently using as a shield against Crowley who stood the other side. The archangel seemed a bit annoyed at being flanked by two demons.

Sam laughed. “Come on Dean. This is nothing like a plane.” Dean shot his brother a glare.

“It can crash,” he protested. “And it’s this thin piece of wood between me and the ground. Excuse me if I don’t feel very safe.”

“I’m sure there are charms for falling off,” Adam said, but the hopeful note to his voice suggested he wasn’t entirely sure.

“Okay students!” their teacher appeared, “Line up beside a broom.”

Since Team Free Will was already in place they stayed where they were, Dean muttered mutinously about his ‘baby’. Jo was thankful the first lesson was the only compulsory one, and that after this Dean could go and moan somewhere else. Really, the thirty-four year old sometimes acted like he really was twelve.

“Stick your hand over your broom and shout ‘up’. You have to command it. You command the broom! It doesn’t command you!”

“Oh I don’t know,” Crowley leered, “Some of us seem controlled by our brooms,” and Jo was so, so thankful their wand-buying session had remained innuendo free.

Despite his reluctance, the stick of wood jumped into Dean’s hand. Adam’s flopped about on the floor like a fish, and Sam’s didn’t do anything first time.

The broom at Castiel’s feet hopped half way up and then fell back down. Gabriel’s hit him in the head while Crowley failed to catch his. Jo swallowed, cleared her mind of dirty euphemisms and said clearly, “Up.”

The broom jumped into her hand and she grinned happily.

“Now then kiddies… mount up.” The teacher demonstrated position and technique, and then asked for them to lift off and come back down.

To be in the air was exhilarating, even if Dean was right about the flimsy piece of wood, once Jo shifted her body, it felt less like a wooden pole and more like an extension of her. She was grinning when she landed back down, and she glanced at the rest of the group.

Gabriel and Crowley seemed to have crashed and were sitting sprawled on the ground, the archangel glaring at the demon. Castiel and Sam seemed to have similarly obeyed the instructions, and while Sam looked uncomfortably, muttering something about ‘killing Gabriel’ and ‘nutcracker’, Adam looked downright freaked, dropping his broom on the ground.

He glanced at her, smiling. “I don’t think this is for me,” he admitted, “I like having my feet on the ground.”

“I think Dean agrees with you,” Jo gestured to where Dean hadn’t even made an attempt to fly and instead was trying to hand the broom back to the teacher.

“But Mr Winchester, this lesson is essential for all young students,” Madam Hooch was arguing passionately.

“I don’t care,” Dean thrust the broom at her and backed away, hands in the air, “I’m done. Planes, brooms, not for me thank you,” he grinned at her, but the teacher didn’t seem to notice.

“This is a necessary lesson…”

“Really?” Dean was still walking backwards, “I’ll pass!” he shouted at her.

“Mr Winchester: Get back on your broom!” Madam Hooch shouted after him.

“I’d rather die!” Dean shot back dramatically. “At least I know what happens then! I’m not going to betray my baby by touching a single stick on one of those things and if you make me I’ll use it to sweep the floors and then I’ll burn it into cinders with holy fire!”

Gabriel winced. “I’d listen to him,” he muttered, “He’d actually do that.”

Hooch sighed. “There’s always one,” she muttered, “Okay, the rest of you mount up again…” she paused, spotting Adam standing looking pale, his broom on the ground. “Not you too…” she sighed, before gesturing after Dean, “Okay, off you go.”

Adam shot Jo a relieved look before bolting after Dean. The elder Winchester looked ecstatic to have his youngest brother with him, and after sending Sam his own version of the ‘betrayed bitch face’ the pair left.

Sam closed his eyes tiredly. “I have idiots for brothers.”

********************************

Jo should have learned, after the Professor Binns incident, not to follow Sam and Dean when they left the castle.

“Where are you going?” she asked, and really she was only following them because Adam was with them, and she’d made friends with him quickly. He was quieter than his brothers, but still a Winchester.

Castiel was trailing Dean too and he answered her question. “We’re looking for something,” he told her, “I don’t know what – Dean wouldn’t tell me.”

Jo sighed, and began following them. “Why do I get the feeling this is a bad idea?”

It always was though, wasn’t it?

This time Sam lead the way, pushing through thick undergrowth at the edge of the ground, tacking a trail up through the woods. The trees were dark and in deep shadow in that November night, and moss trailed along the ground which squelched underfoot.

Adam seemed nervous, but resigned to listening to his brothers, while the angel seemed totally unruffled.

“So what are you expecting?” Dean said, voice rising in the evening gloom, “Rainbows and sunshine?”

“No…” Sam protested, lowering his voice, “It’s just they might… they sense purity.”

“Well you’re hardly a virgin Sam,” Dean eyed his little brother. “Is that why we brought Cass and Adam?”

“Hey!” their brother protested, but it went unheard.

“They sense evil and purity of heart. That’s why I’ve got my very own righteous man.” Sam smirked at his brother, who just stormed ahead, pausing when their trail split into two parts, both looking equally as dark and dank as the other.

“We…” Castiel glanced around him. “We shouldn’t be here,” he said. “I believe that they call this the forbidden forest for a reason Dean.”

Dean shrugged. “Clue’s in the name,” he sighed.

Jo stumbled to a halt. “Can we turn back then, before we get lost?”

“Don’t worry. Cass can find his way out easily enough,” Dean smirked. “Can’t you buddy?”

Thankfully the angel nodded and Jo sighed in relief. “Why are we even in here in the first place?” she asked, running a hand through her hair.

Adam opened his mouth to answer, but at that moment, something rustled in the trees. The group froze and spun around.

White appeared through the trees, and small black eyes blinked at them beneath a snowy mane and…

Was that a gold horn?

Jo blinked. She stared. She blinked again.

Well she guessed if angels were real, that meant the thing in front of her probably was too.

“Ha!” Sam grinned triumphantly at Dean. “You totally owe me those twenty bucks!”

“You were betting on whether or not unicorns existed?” Jo exclaimed. “Oh my god you two are morons!”

The little baby golden horned foal snickered, not moving from its hiding place in the undergrowth. Adam crouched down, holding out a hand. It stretched its neck forward, sniffing and nuzzling it.

Dean coughed. “Virgin…”

Jo glanced over, and then tried not to laugh. “Hey Dean,” she said. “Turn around.”

The hunter frowned, but did so slowly, freezing when he caught sight of another, much bigger unicorn with a silver horn, staring at him with adoring eyes.

“Righteous man…” Sam sing-songed. He cautiously stepped towards the adult mare, and it looked at him warily but didn’t move. “Hey girl…” he crooned, holding out a hand, but dropping it in disappointment when it shied away.

It used Dean as a barrier, skirting away from Sam and heading over to Castiel where it seemed to treat him as part of the scenery, chewing idly on a lock of his hair.

“Well would you look at that?” Dean whistled. “Angel and unicorn… Five years ago I’d have said they never existed.”

“Five years ago you did say they never existed,” Sam reminded him.

The mother unicorn stopped nuzzling Castiel’s hair as the angel stood quietly, instead calling to its foal with a whinny. The young one skittered away from where Adam was gently stroking its mane, and the pair trotted away, vanishing into the undergrowth.

“What scared them?” Jo asked.

“Death,” Castiel answered gravely, as from the trees another horse emerged. Her breath caught as she looked at the skeletal grey stallion, bony wings protruding from its shoulder. “His steeds...”

“White horse,” Dean frowned. “The black horse looks more like famine.”

“Revelations,” Sam stared wide-eyed at the new arrivals. “War rides a red mustang.”

Dean interrupted, “Cherry red.” He corrected, “And that was a sweet ride…” he stopped seeing Sam’s face. “Hey Cass... Care to share the lore with us?”

Castiel was staring sadly at the horses. “They can only be seen by those who have seen, understood and come to terms with death. One can see someone die, but not yet understand it and they will see nothing. I believe they are called thestrals. They are known as death’s steed because of their relationship with death as a concept and not the horseman. They have no link to him.”

Dean seemed to relax slightly. “It’s just as well. The dude’s going to reap me the next time he sees me. And then he’s going to stalk me in heaven and make me eat his fast food.” He shuddered. “Or maybe I just have an inflated sense of self-worth.”

“Wow,” Adam snarked, “Dean that sounded almost intelligent.”

“I think he was quoting Death.” Castiel said.

“Ah,” the youngest brother nodded, “That makes sense.”

“Well now that’s over, let’s get back to Gabriel, Crowley and Meg.” Jo said, as they watched the thestrals leave. “They’ve probably killed each other in the interim.”

Dean eyes widened. “I thought you were watching them!” he exclaimed, as if she was meant to babysitting them or something.

“I was with you!” she protested.

Adam swore and begun to head in the general direction of the castle. His brothers exchanged glances and in their unspoken words seemed to agree that the two demons and one archangel together was a Bad Idea.

Jo sighed, and looked at Castiel. He seemed to share her thoughts.

“No wonder you needed to look after them,” she said.

“I fear sometimes what would happen if I wasn’t there,” he admitted.

********************************

When they got back to the castle dinner was just finishing, and with it what must have been a spectacular prank. Severus Snape was standing and shouting something at Professor Dumbledore and gesturing towards his house table where Gabriel, Crowley and Meg looked far too smug.

As Jo got closer she realised the problem was, that every time he opened his mouth, instead of words, various songs poured out.

“I’m all out of love! I’m so lost without you!” Snape shut his mouth and tried again. “I’ve got nine lives, cat’s eyes. Losing every one of them and running wild!”

“I sorry,” Dumbledore frowned, “Which students again did you say?”

“Exit light. Enter night. Grain of sand.”

“No I don’t quite follow,” the old coot was actually playing along.

“Smoke on the water, fire in the sky.” Snape seemed to have had enough as he whirled around, black cloak billowing. He strode over to Gabriel and the two demons, pointing a threatening finger at the archangel, which would have been far scarier if he hadn’t opened his mouth and sung, “Oh baby, baby, baby oh!”

Gabriel snickered, as Snape stormed out of the hall like a bat out of hell. And even Jo could appreciate that pun.

“What did you do?” Sam asked, as they reached the Slytherin table.

“You should have been here!” Meg laughed, “Snape kept singing every time he started to talk.”

“And we totally did not spike his juice with a potion to make him do that,” Gabriel was in full-out Trickster mode.

“Where were you?” Crowley asked.

“Unicorns…” Dean winced, “Don’t ask.”

“Rainbows..?” Gabriel raised one eyebrow.

Jo didn’t even want to know.

********************************

It became apparent very quickly to Jo after the sixth time some kid overheard them talking about demons and angels, that they weren’t trying to be subtle about it. They’d received some funny looks from the teachers who were highly likely to be whispering behind their backs about them.

The key moment came when Crowley accidently left his pet puppy lounging around the Great Hall around breakfast sometime early January, and Dean discovered the dog when it began chewing on his shoelace.

Jo only became aware of the problem when she and Adam arrived down for breakfast only to find Dean chasing Crowley around in circles in the entrance hall with the brother’s demon killing knife. (Apparently it had once belonged to a demon called Ruby, but they had killed her eventually and stolen her knife.)

“I’m going to kill him!”

Crowley darted behind Gabriel; as if the archangel would offer him some protection and Sam caught Dean by the back of his collar, dragging him back. “No you’re not!” Dean’s brother was holding him back, physically.

“Let me kill him! I’ll stick that demon killing knife up his ass so help me I will…”

“Now can’t we be calm and think about this…?” Gabriel didn’t seem to like being the blockade between the angry Winchester and his prey.

“Shut the f*** up Gabriel or I’ll char your wings!”

Gabriel shut up.

“There’s no talking about this?” Crowley seemed to be trying to save his own ass.

“No!” Dean snapped, struggling violently and elbowing Sam in the gut. Letting go, Dean lunged for a surprised Crowley who ducked out of the way and ran down the corridor, Dean Winchester hot on his heels.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Go Dean!” he called after them, pulling a lolly out of a pocket. He seemed to have a never ending candy supply. “You get that smarmy king of hell!”

Next to her Adam looked torn between rolling his eyes and laughing hysterically. “My brothers are weird,” he told her, “Do you think it’s genetic?”

Jo examined the blonde kid critically for a moment. “We’ll have to find out, won’t we?” she smirked at him, before turning away and strolling down to join Sam and Gabriel. There was a bustle of robes as McGonagall strode down the hallway after Dean and Crowley, looking slightly panicked. Some students had probably run to her with tales of two mental first years and a knife. The young Harvelle knew Dean wouldn’t kill Crowley, but the teachers didn’t.

This was proved later when Dumbledore made an announcement at dinner about no weapons. Dean and Crowley were still absent, and it turned out that they’d been hiding from Snape in the dungeons for the day. They were found by the raggedy cat and mid-way through dinner were dragged in by the collar and presented to Dumbledore like a prize.

“I found the two miscreants,” Filch smirked, teeth looking like they were in need of a good clean.

“Sammy…” Dean struggled, too small to do much against the man, “You need to rescue the knife! Got it dude?” he called out.

“No you don’t!” Crowley protested. “I’m not having you wave around that demon killing blade every time Meg or I piss you off!”

“So you and Meg are allowed your angel killing blade, but Sam and I aren’t allowed our Kurdish demon killing knife?” Dean spat back. “Go back to your crossroads Crowley!”

“Boys,” Dumbledore tried to calm them down, apparently all too aware that the whole school was watching the conversation. “I thought you were friends.”

Sam, who had moved up to speak to his brother followed by the rest of the Team, scoffed, “With him?” he gestured at the short Scottish kid. “The same demon who blackmailed us and…” Gabriel elbowed him in the side.

The elderly head master paused. “Demon?” he pushed up the half-moon glasses on his nose. “Why don’t we take this to my office where I explain some issues about magic to you. I am aware that no teacher was dispatched to your house and this has obviously caused issues…”

The old man obviously had no idea what he was talking about, but Jo obediently trailed after Dumbledore, Snape and McGonagall to his office past a golden gargoyle and winding staircase. She didn’t hear the password, too engrossed by Dean and Crowley’s bickering. Castiel had joined in loyally on Dean’s side, and the Hell King was struggling to defend himself against the pair.

“You locked me in a room with ghouls.”

“Your pretty angel burned my bones.”

“They weren’t your bones.”

“He worked with me over you!”

“He double-crossed you!”

“I know - lying backstabbing feathered bastard!”

Dumbledore took a seat behind his desk and the Team gathered awkwardly in his office. “Now,” he began, popping a sweet of some sort into his mouth. “Lemon drops anyone?”

“Sure,” Gabriel helped himself. He was the only one to do so.

“I understand,” Dumbledore began slowly, “That you harbour the delusions of demons.”

Silence… Nobody said _anything._

“And angels,” Dumbledore continued. “While I appreciate your faith, you must know that there is no such thing,” his voice was gentle, as if he was talking to a little kid and admitting Santa wasn’t real.

“You mean…” Gabriel’s voice quivered. “There’s no such thing as the Easter Bunny?”

“Silence boy,” Snape snapped from the side-lines, “You will cease this nonsense at once!”

“Why should we? Just because you don’t know any better doesn’t mean we’re going to pretend this stuff doesn’t exist.” Dean retorted.

“It doesn’t exist,” Snape took a threatening step forwards, but Dean didn’t flinch, proving the reason he was the unspoken leader for Team Free Will. Well… that and he had been the one to come up with the stupid name.

“You have your beliefs and we have ours,” Dean shrugged. “So what..?”

“I understand…” Dumbledore interjected calmly, “That you have had a very traumatic childhood. You have only this family that you have created to turn to and your own delusions to reason with why this has happened to you. It is only natural.”

Dead silence. Jo mentally wondered if Dumbledore had been a psychiatrist at all or was just making this crap up.

“You think we’re insane,” Meg was the one to speak up, “So are you going to send up to the asylum and lock us up?”

“No!” McGonagall looked appalled. “You are safe here at Hogwarts.”

Dumbledore peered over his glasses, looking grave, “We ask only that you try to… reach out… make friends with other students and learn to rely on others…” he was interrupted as the door opened and a lady dressed like a nurse… oh no. Jo had a bad feeling about this.

“I’ve got those potions you wanted Professor,” the matron lady said, handing over a rack of glass vials with some bile coloured liquid in.

“Thank you Poppy,” old man smiled before turning to them, “I have something that will help you. Please… take it. Hogwarts is a place of safety. Nobody is at danger, and you are safe.”

Jo wanted to laugh. Meg was sniggering behind her hand, but disguised it as a cough. Judging by Snape’s sour look it didn’t work. “You will stop spreading this nonsense around the school,” he sneered at the Hufflepuff. “You’re scaring the students. It is already well-known that your family suffers from problems; please don’t try to convince them of its reality.”

“I’m pretty sure,” Dean said, as he took one of the vials, eyeing it warily, “That you’re not meant to say shit like that to students.” He took the cork off and sniffed it, screwing up his nose. “What is this?” he asked.

“It’s to help you calm down.” Dumbledore said. “And then these,” he gestured to another set of vials, “Help to stabilise your reality. They help with hallucinations.”

Sam laughed bitterly. “We could have done with that when Lucifer was still in my head.” Next to her Adam flinched.

“Dude,” he seemed sympathetic, “You saw Lucifer after you got out?”

Sam nodded. “I’m so happy you don’t see Michael.”

“Well… he was a dick, but he was a nice dick.”

“Language,” McGonagall snapped, passing out the vials. “Take your potions.”

Gabriel sniffed it and then proceeded to down them, one after the other. “Whoa,” he muttered, blinking, “That’s strong.” His face twisted, “And disgusting...”

“If you need it,” Dumbledore said gentle, “We are always here to offer assistance and an ear to listen to. Poppy will continue to provide you with potion to help.”

Later, Dumbledore took back that statement after the Team ended up camping in one of the courtyards around a campfire. It was consensually known as ‘the time Team Free Will was stoned’ and nobody could really remember exactly what had happened, except bits and pieces which involved Dean and Cass falling out and then making up again in a great show of emotion, Meg and Crowley making snow angels while Gabriel, Sam, Adam and Jo somehow managed to create a pile of blankets and spell layers to make it warm enough to sleep outside despite the bitter January cold.

Whatever they did (and nobody knew since they were all so high on whatever stuff they’d been given which apparently only worked on the mentally sick and didn’t work well in combination so the teachers were forced to accept their mental state and ignore it forever more, much to their annoyance) to heat up the courtyard stayed permanently, turning the place into a miniature tropical rainforest which excited the Herbology teacher as she could grow rare plants there, and it got Gabriel extra points, since he was the one who claimed credit.

Combined with the points Jo, Sam and Dean lost their houses by sneaking out of mock hunts, Slytherin managed to win the house cup, although none of them really cared about it, and even though the end of year feast involved green decorations, Gabriel and Crowley actually left to join the Hufflepuff table, which were much friendlier.

Overall, it had been a good year, and Jo was surprisingly happy and looking forward to the next bunch.

That was if she managed to survive Gabriel’s crazy pranks.


	5. No One Makes Us Do Anything (Gabriel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even if he was stranded without his magical awesome archangel and trickster powers, Gabriel could still make the best of a bad situation. Turns out the Team have some good ideas too. SPN7.17AU & HPY5

******Chapter 5: No One Makes Us Do Anything**

Gabriel loved the free use of magic. Well he loved his wings more but without his awesome archangel mojo, he’d settle for magic any day of the week (except Tuesdays, which were reserved for hiding from Sam). Despite the fact that according to Professor Snape, building a giant model of the moon made entirely of cheese was not an acceptable extra-credit assignment, he still managed to come up crazy and extreme ways of making stuff happen, even when it shouldn’t.

Everyone collectively blamed him to what was referred to as the ‘drunken incident of ‘95’. The only problem with that had been the long and painful walk back through the castle to their respective dorms, which involved what Dean referred to as the ‘cat and mouse chase’ with the creepy Mrs Norris, Umbridge and Filch.

Somehow having persuaded Castiel, his gullible little brother, that it was a research project for Professor Snape, Gabriel had managed to work out with his help how to turn water into rum (and tequila, and beer and some sort of whiskey and scotch to satisfy Crowley). Thus, while most of the school was bitching about the Reign of the Toad Inquisitor (ROTTI for short) Team Free Will was enjoying being able to drink alcohol.

Jo of all people had found the secret room on the seventh floor some time during their third year while the famous Potter kid was dealing with the main story plot of a giant snake. It had been a unanimous decision that if this was to be a holiday, then it would be a holiday, and they wouldn’t interfere at all in the book’s plot.

It wasn’t because Adam and Dean were the only two who had even the vaguest sense of plot. Sam swore that he’d read it once they got back to normal, although Gabriel reckoned they were so far from normal it would be a while until then.

They’d claimed the magic room as their own, and it wasn’t until their sixth year that they were in there, having one of many arguments about the structure of heaven, when three fifth years appeared.

It didn’t help that Gabriel had been spiking the juice with some really strong stuff, and they were all drunk off their feet. An exception was Dean, who had to find some pretty concentrated stuff to get even the little bit tipsy, considering his blood was made of alcohol, and the angels and demons that had some resistance to the stuff.

“So I was thinking if we move onto the reducto curse and…” Harry Potter stopped talking when he spotted them lounging around the roadhouse look-alike. He blinked at the room’s form, and then noticed the eight members of Team Free Will (and those who disagree with the name) sitting sprawled around in various states of drunken stupors.

“So you and Dean are soul mates?” Meg was giggling. “Eternal companions… Sam I feel so sorry for ya’… can’t ‘ven ‘scape Dean-o in death.”

Sam threw a pillow at her and missed. “Dean’s my brother.” He said. “Don’ mind.”

“We’ve got visitors,” Castiel noticed, leaning back into what Gabriel realised was an exact mimicry of Dean’s exact sprawl. He mentally sighed. Cass still hadn’t got the hang of being human, even after six off years of it.

“Are you drunk?” Ron looked in awe.

“Gabe managed to turn water to wine,” Dean grinned and Gabriel felt a warm emotion at the nickname Dean had assigned him. “Or rum... Not sure which.” He sniffed his glass. “Something strong…”

“S’not as good as scotch…” Crowley muttered mutinously. Gabriel’s attempts at making that had failed, and obviously what he had made didn’t pass the King of Hell’s high standards.

“Do you want us to leave?” Castiel seemed to pick up on the four Gryffindor’s anxiousness. “I’m sure we can get Adam, Jo and Sam back without trouble.”

“Hear that little bro’?” Dean nudged Adam, where he was beginning to drift off. The poor kid was well and truly adopted by the Winchesters now. “Gotta’ get you to bed.”

“M’not tired,” Adam muttered blearily.

Dean rolled his eyes. “How many fingers?” he asked, not even holding up his hand.

“Five,” Adam mumbled, blinking.

Gabriel sniggered, and he guessed that he was drunk properly for the first time in ages. He should be almost-human more often.

“Dean?” Adam blinked blearily.

“Yeah kiddo…?” Dean asked, grinning like a lunatic.

“I can’t feel my toes.” Adam seemed shocked. “Shouldn’t I be able to feel my toes?”

“Can you wiggle them?” Sam asked sensibly. He was a happy drunk, evidently.

Adam looked down as his feet through the table. “Dunno’,” he shrugged, sounding slightly stricken. “Can’t see ‘em.” He whispered.

“Now you’re in trouble,” Dean sighed, hauling himself up. “C’mon Ad…” he helped his little brother to his feet.

“How’m I suppos’d t’walk without toes?” Adam mumbled in confusion.

“Don’ worry…” Dean seemed to have a hell of an alcohol tolerance, standing straight. “You’ll find em in the mornin’.” He yawned, helping Adam away slowly. He glanced at Ginny, Harry, Hermione and Ron. “Enjoy your defence club,” he said brightly.

“How did you know about that?” Hermione looked alarmed as Dean began helping Adam towards the door behind them.

“Sam’s psychic,” Dean confided, and Gabe thought that probably wasn’t what he had meant to say. Nonetheless, it caught Sam’s attention, and the happy drunk stumbled up to help his brothers, as if tied to them by a rope.

“See you guys,” he waved vaguely. “Meg, Cr’ley… d’nt kill each other,” his speech slurred between clear and fuzzy as he paused to right his head, before heading off in a wobbly line after Dean. “Wait up De.”

Gabriel leaned back on the roadhouse bar as the three Winchesters limped off. Castiel excused himself quietly. According to Dean and Sam, he’d already been on one ‘bender’ and wasn’t doing so again anytime soon since he didn’t like the migraine.

“Do you think I should go keep an eye on them?” Cass asked him.

Jo snickered. “They’re Winchesters. Trouble is like… their middle name.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.” Castiel stood, “Considering their middles names are actually Dean Michael, Samuel Luke and Adam John. I’m assuming that’s another saying?” he didn’t wait for a reply, as he strolled in the direction the Winchesters had gone.

Meg and Crowley were laughing. “Their middle names are…” Meg giggled again. “Oh god… no wonder they… they must have been so pissed… haha Lucifer and Michael… hahaha and then they said ‘no’!” she took a deep breath, before continuing her hysterical laughter.

“Laugh it up demon,” Gabe took another sip, enjoying how fuzzy his head was feeling. “Sorry guys. We’ll clear out. Right Crowley…?”

“Sure thing angel,” Crowley leered at him, as he dragged Meg up, letting her lean on him, still laughing. “Come‘n darling.” And Gabriel reckoned that testified to how drunk they were.

“Enjoy your illegal club,” Gabriel told them, as he and Jo followed the demons out. “Oh, and for the record… it only says it’s illegal to have a club of regular meetings.” He winked at them, and then spun around heading out.

“Do you think he will tell?”

“The others are probably too drunk to remember…”

“He’s a Slytherin! Of course he’ll tell…”

“But… he’s right. Our meetings are random… only regular meetings are forbidden. It’s just looking at the words from a skewed perspective…”

“Are we really going to trust those maniacs not to spill?”

“No-one would believe them.”

“ _I_ don’t believe them.”

Gabriel smiled to himself, and wondered if he could persuade the house-elves to spike the pumpkin juice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A demon, a fallen angel, a trickster, three hunters, a med-students and the king of hell have a prank war.

There had to be a punch-line in there somewhere.

It started relatively innocently, some time in their sixth year before the drunken debacle. It wasn’t even a trick aimed at a member of the Team. Instead they were hanging out in the Room of Requirement again, at some point when the secret defence meeting wasn’t going on, and Sam and Crowley were testing out the room capabilities.

“So if I wanted an apple…” Crowley closed his eyes and opened them again, looking about. There was nothing there. “Or if I specified an apple from the kitchen.”

This time when he opened his eyes an apple had appeared on the table in front of him. Adam laughed and snatched it up, biting into it. “I think you got the hang of it,” he mumbled through his mouthful.

“I think you stole my apple,” Crowley glared at him.

Adam paused for a moment, and then held out another apple. “What do you know?” he breathed. “The room summons things for you from other places… is it just in the castle?”

“I want my baby,” Dean was the first to volunteer, and Gabriel winced at the thought of a car appearing in the Roadhouse look-alike.

Thankfully nothing happened and Dean just looked disappointed. “You and your car,” Sam shot at his brother, “Maybe it didn’t know what you meant by baby? Dean’s Impala.”

Still nothing, thankfully.

“Umbridge’s clothes,” Gabriel said suddenly with a smirk. “That she’s wearing.”

There was a pause, and then Meg held up a pink cardigan, skirt and underwear which had landed practically on her head. For a moment they stared at it in shock. “Oh my god Gabriel you didn’t…” Meg threw the clothes to the floor in disgust.

A loud scream echoed through the castle.

“It’s dinner now isn’t it?” Jo asked warily.

“Oh yes,” Gabriel grinned. “Want to see it on TV?” and he grabbed a remote that had appeared, pointing it at the TV and switching it on. The rest of the Team looked away in protest at the image of Umbridge, sans cloths, sitting up at her usual place at the house table.

“They’re going to realise we’re not there. We’re going to die,” Jo whispered.

The rest of the Team seemed to have seen… or rather tried to avoid seeing the funny side, but were all in hysterics anyway. “No more stealing teacher’s clothes,” Dean shook his head. “Because the headmaster is…”

Gabriel winced, still watching the scene of panic in the Great Hall in amusement. “Don’t worry.” He said, “I’ve got better tricks to play.”

“No killing,” Dean and Sam spoke together which was very creepy, if amusing.

“Harmless fun,” he spread his hands innocently. “Tell you what we’ll turn it into a prank war. Funny, no deathly embarrassing anybody who doesn’t deserve it, and if it’s a just dessert, then all the better. More points.”

“Not fair,” Adam protested against his idea. “You’ve had what… millennia of practise?”

“Good luck,” Gabriel told him, grinning. “And I think that…” he gestured towards the screen where Dumbledore had kindly given Umbridge his robes which were ludicrous shades of blue with… were those gingerbread men on them? The man himself apparently didn’t wear t-shirt and jeans like most of the Team did under their ‘dresses’ as Dean called them (except Sam who seemed to wear strictly plaid), and just had a pair of polka dot boxers and rainbow socks on.

He blinked, horrified at the screen, and then proceeded to turn the screen off and wipe that image from his mind.

“You’re on.” Dean said. “Repeating tricks loses marks. So no TV channels, hulks, or slow dancing…”

“Aliens, yeah, yeah...” Gabriel recovered his composure. “Can we team up?” he asked, wondering if Crowley had any good ideas.

“Yes,” Sam said, giving Dean a sly glance. “But we switch around. Every man for himself.”

Dean levelled a glared at his brother. “If that’s how you want to play it Sammy,” he threatened, standing up. “Come on Cass… Meg too if you’re interested… We have stuff to plan.”

“No nair in the shampoo,” Sam called, as Dean left, followed by his angel and demon pets. “I mean it! If you even touch my shampoo or hair you’re dead you jerk!”

Gabriel considered Sam’s hair for a moment, but decided that he didn’t have a death wish, and should probably avoid something like that. In fact, he probably shouldn’t touch Sam or Dean with a twenty foot pole, since he was liable to end up fresh-roasted with holy fire.

Whatever. He’d pranked them enough for the century.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A week later and nothing had happened, other than Crowley getting yet another detention for sassing out a teacher. Gabriel was considering waiting for someone else to take turn first, but decided impatiently that he couldn’t wait.

It was a unanimous decision among the students and staff alike that the Night of the Flying Orange Hamsters was something under the list of ‘never to be talked about again’. Cass was taking pictures, with a camera Meg had stolen from a Gryffindor kid who had caught a picture of her eyes sliding black during what Sam and Dean had mockingly called her ‘time of the month’. He had handed it over to her under the threat of being hung, drawn and quartered.

The prank of Gabriel’s had basically involved a complicated potion which he convinced the elves to use as a drink instead of pumpkin juice. Unfortunately none of the Team ever drank the stuff because really… pumpkin juice? But still… to see the rest of the school slowly but surely turn into neon orange hamsters with little wings… it was totally worth it. The little pops that could be heard every time a student vanished to be replaced by a startled hamster was the icing on the cake.

The giant orange bubbles hadn’t been Gabriel’s trick at all. Turned out it was Jo who had planned on some sort of giant bubble bath, and instead got giant balloon like bubbles like Charlie in the Chocolate Factory. Some of the orange rodents got trapped in one, giving the impression of a hamster in a ball, running through mid-air.

Jo got double points for enhancing Gabriel’s prank. The archangel sulked, but admitted defeat and planned his next trick.

Meanwhile Winchesters United (plus one lonely angel) had worked together to set up several dozen pillows in the Great Hall one morning, and somehow managed to engineer a giant pillow fight by the time breakfast rolled by. There were feathers in people’s bags for weeks afterwards.

Crowley had gone for the more subtle approach, and had gone around to the moving staircases and plastered them with special sticky glue he’d bought from Hogsmeade. Having been with him when he bought it, Gabriel managed to avoid the trap, although Dean hadn’t been so lucky. Then of course later, when on a mission with a demon-killing knife to kill Crowley, the Crossroad King himself had gotten himself stuck on the stairs while fleeing from the homicidal (or was it demonicidal?) Winchester, and so got negative points for that.

Meanwhile Sam was tormenting Dean with the basic salt instead of sugar, tying his shoelaces together and also managed to keep Dean from his pie for a whole week. Gabriel hadn’t been expecting Dean to approach him though to help with a revenge prank.

“I figured clowns would be cruel,” Dean admitted, “And turning him into a giant moose is pushing things. So I’m stuck.”

Gabriel considered this. “His books,” he said eventually. “You know that monster one we were made to get fourth year?”

Dean’s eyes widened. “He’ll kill me,”

Gabriel grinned. “So totally worth it…”

So when during a lunchtime, some-time late November over at the Ravenclaw table, all the books turned into raving monsters and attacked Sam: Dean and Gabriel were not to blame. And if one of the books had taken a chunk of his ‘long flowing locks out’ then Dean totally hadn’t researched how to make that happen.

Sam promptly retaliated by convincing all the portraits to vanish for a week and then to re-appear mid-lunch meal singing “I’m All Out of Love,” which he had painstaking taught to them. Dean was in no way amused by that, but after Sam told the gang how Dean had been singing along in the car he got bonus points. That and Snape, still traumatised by the time Gabriel had slipped him a potion forcing him to sing instead of speak, had developed a nervous tick upon hearing the song.

It had terrified half the school. Trelawney had rushed about, proclaiming the end of the world, waving her arms and her chiffon scarves around like some deranged insect, whilst Professor Sprout apparently slumped in a dead faint. Dumbledore had been caught humming along.

So once again Dean teamed up, this time with Castiel and Meg, to prove who knew what. It basically consisted of all the houses developing ears, or tails in awkward places. A bunch of Slytherins had snake tongues, while a few of the Gryffindors had manes.

Gabriel and Cass of course, got little fluffy wings which somehow managed to cast massive shadows on the wall regardless of whether or not there was a plausible light source for it. They both had halos above their head too, although Gabriel’s sat crookedly much to his joy.

The two demons got to go around with red and black eyes for the day, and they got some demonic bat wings. Crowley seemed to enjoy his pitchfork a little too much. And just to shift the blame to Cass and Meg, Dean had a little halo of white light, along with Adam. Jo was thankful she had no links to demons or angels, but then promptly tried to kill Dean when she ended up with butterfly wings.

Gabriel had to admit, it was a clever prank, well done and showed promise. The Hufflepuff trio had laced the food, and the prank lasted one lunch, running until the evening when it faded, uncomfortably animal and religious appendages fading.

Sam wasn’t pleased with his little devil horns at all though, nor the tail.

He took revenge by covering the Great Hall in pictures (and who knows where he printed them out) of fairies. They were the proper kind as well, glowing wings, not wearing clothes. It gave everyone at Hogwarts a life-long wariness for the sparkly things.

It took Filch, the grumpy caretaker a week to get all the pictures down. Somehow Sam had managed to get some taped to the ceiling, although judging by Jo and Adam’s looks the pair had helped him.

In return, Dean gave his brother a single shoe wrapped in a ribbon. Sam seemed to get whatever the joke was, but the tag attached saying “Found your lost sole,” made him bitch for days. Gabriel had to be reminded of the joke, and upon discovering about Sam’s soul being stuck down in Lucifer’s cage was more sympathetic than amused.

Lucifer’s vessel seemed out of ideas, so Gabriel went ahead and set up a prank, asking their two house elves that Castiel had freed sometime in their second year who were currently working at Hogwarts, to appear randomly around the school with a ring, croaking out ‘My Precious’ and vanishing again. It eventually accumulated to Fiddle and Dibby arguing over it in the middle of Gabriel, Crowley and Sam’s potion class, knocking over pots and ingredients as they struggled over the ‘one ring’.

Sam had sighed and muttered something along the lines of “At least he didn’t stick us in the TV show.”

Meanwhile Dean was proceeding to cover the school with sigils and devil’s traps. There was even a charred pair of black wings burnt into the walls of the entrance hall. Gabriel wasn’t sure of the point of it, but it creeped out the teachers and students when they began looking up what the ‘satanistic symbols’ actually meant. Dean, Meg and Cass must have been up the whole night painting them around the school.

It had been funny though when Crowley tried to steal Jo’s food and she had angrily told him to “go and sit in your devil’s trap.” Her tone and voice were exactly like her mothers, and the whole school didn’t seem to get why Crowley had obediently gone to sit in the pentagram in the corner, his hellhound stalking after him invisibly.

Adam who had avoided most of the pranks, eventually told Crowley about Sam and Dean’s bad luck with a rabbit’s foot. So naturally the two made another one.

“Why’s it always the rabbits?” Dean asked in disgust, after a Transfiguration lesson of turning rabbits into bunny slippers. “What do people have against them?”

Gabriel honestly didn’t see it coming, as Adam appeared beside them (from nowhere… that kid was too good at sneaking up on them) with something dangling from a keychain. “I kept a memento,” he told them, “From my lesson yesterday. What do you think?”

Dean turned in his seat, half-way through his pie. He blinked, frowning at the shape. “Is that…” he stopped, eyes wide.

“Rabbit’s foot,” Crowley took it from Adam, not touching the fur. “Gives you good luck,” he spun it around slightly. “Wonder if it works?”

“Oh crap.” Dean said, still staring at the foot. “Crowley if that is a prank so help me…”

“Relax, squirrel,” Crowley said.

“What is it…?” Sam glanced up from his de-monster-ised book. “Oh crap.” He said the same words as his brother after seeing the rabbit’s foot.

“It’s a harmless version,” Crowley told them. “Just gives you good luck right up until you lose it whereupon you get bad luck for twenty-four hours. Think fast.” And he tossed it towards them.

Sam and Dean threw themselves under the table with a crash, Dean’s pie flying spectacularly through the air and hitting Snape in the face. The whole school looked around at the sound, looking really confused as to why the Winchester Duo were hiding under the table and Snape had bits of cherry filling sliding down his face.

The Weasley twins used this opportunity to call out “Food fight!” and for the next half-hour the Winchester brothers didn’t move from their place under the table.

Castiel was the only one not covered with food by the end, and that was only because of the fluffy brown foot clutched in his hands.

Gabriel appeared by him, blinking custard from his eye. “Bro,” he exclaimed. “Dean’s not going to be anywhere within a hundred foot radius of you for days now,” he said, gesturing to the foot. “So what are you going to do? Keep it or lose it?”

As it was, Umbridge took the opportunity to confiscate it. The consequences weren’t hilarious immediately (except Cass’ unfortunate run of bad luck, tripping up stairs, spilling ink, and somehow ending up trapped in a closet with Dean. “It’s about time they came out the closet,” Meg had critiqued, and then promptly legged it when Dean threatened to kill her.) Later though, when the rabbit’s foot began its round on the students, and Umbridge spent a day being stalked by toads, Adam and Crowley gained extra points.

Eventually the school figured out the Team were behind the prank war, and Dumbledore called them to his office before the Weasley twins could get in on it. Adam and Jo skipped there, singing loudly at the top of their lungs, “We’re off to see the wizard, the wonderful of Oz.”

Unfortunately nobody else got the joke.

Dumbledore glared at them as they stood in front of him. “This has been fun boys,” he told them gravely. “And girls,” he added, seeing Jo and Meg’s pissed off expression. “But with the Ministry interfering here and Professor Umbridge I would kindly like for you to abstain from your… humorous activities.”

Gabriel sighed as they agreed, subtly stealing the box of candies from the table instead in retribution. He’d abstain… for now, but he deserved a complementary gift instead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that day Albus reached for his box of confectionary and finding it not there called an immediate staff meeting.

“What is it?” Sprout asked tiredly.

Flitwick stumbled in next, “Have you stopped the pranks?” he inquired.

“What?” Dumbledore blinked. “Yes, yes… I have a matter of grave importance to announce.”

The room held its breath.

"My... my lemon drops!" Albus said gravely. "They’re gone. Someone stole my bowl of lemon drops."

There was the audible sound of Snape’s head hitting the table.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The gold hourglasses sparkled in the light. Spotting the shiny object, Gabriel automatically snatched one up. Father, he really was turning into a magpie.

“So where is it?” Dean looked around at the shelves filled with odds and ends. His cedar wand pulsed like a torch, illuminating the hall. “We’re looking for this weapon…”

“It’s my horn,” Gabriel corrected, looking up from where he had been examining the time turner. He pocketed it and strolled forwards. “They have it labelled here as a horn of judgement.” He snickered. “Considering I’m the archangel of judgement it’s totally suitable.”

Castiel was reading the box labels. “We’re still in the ‘e’ section of the alphabet,” he told them, “It will be further down, if it is here at all,” he cast a critical eye at the cheap cardboard boxes.

Meg, who was a bit further down the corridor called back to them, “Hey, Gabe?” she called. Everybody seemed to have picked up Dean’s nickname for him as easily as they had picked up Castiel’s. ‘Sammy’ was still off limits though. “Didn’t your big brother have a ‘flaming sword’?”

Dean froze. “But Michael’s not in the cage yet,” he frowned. “Lucifer is… but even then… why would his sword…” he paused as Gabriel pulled a shiny silver blade from the box, in the same geometric shape as the other angel blades, except this one was silver and gold, and as the archangel twisted it the blade lit up, wreathed in flames. “Is that his sword?” he gulped.

Gabriel nodded. “We’ll take this,” he handed it to Dean, “Hold onto it for me, would ya’?” he fully intended to leave Michael’s sword to the Michael sword, as he continued on down the alphabet to where Cass was standing waiting at ‘h’.

“Here you are,” Respectfully Castiel didn’t touch the horn, just held out the box for Gabriel to take. The archangel pulled out the golden instrument, clutching it to his chest.

“Oh baby,” he murmured, “I’ve missed you. I’m sorry, that’s the last time I lend you to Hel to play with,” he cradled it to him, pausing when he saw Sam smirking. “What?” he said defensively.

“Nothing,” Sam smiled, “It’s just you and Dean are so alike. You call a horn and a car ‘baby’.”

“My horn is nothing like his metal monstrosity!” Gabe snapped, at the same time Dean retorted, “My car is nothing like his musical disaster!” The pair paused, looking horrified at each other.

“Can we go now?” Crowley seemed bored, but considered he had just picked up what looked like a reaper’s scythe, their adventure in the Ministry’s Department of Mysteries was not wasted. Even Sam had found some interesting old book about the balance between Heaven, Hell, Earth and Purgatory.

“This way,” Adam seemed to have a map inside his head, and Gabriel followed him, still protectively wrapped around his horn.

From behind he could hear Dean complaining. “Hey! Dude! Gabriel! Come and take back Mikey’s f***ing sword!”

“I think he left it to you,” Castiel said to the human, “It certainly seems appropriate; Michael’s sword with the Michael sword…”

“Enough with freaking Michael already!” Dean snapped, and Gabriel sighed. The kid just didn’t seem to understand that just because Michael and Lucifer were in a cage, didn’t mean that Dean and Sam stopped having that connection to them. They were the true vessels, and that would always be there, forever.

Because really, if Mi’ka’el and Sama’el had a choice in the matter, then they’d have probably picked better and more obedient vessels.

Meg paused ahead as she heard voices rounding the corner. The door ahead was flung open as three people skidded through, slamming the door closed behind them.

“What the hell?” Meg blinked at the new arrivals. The three jumped in alarm.

“You!” Ginny Weasley said, staring at them. “What are you doing here?”

“Adam,” Dean growled, looking at his youngest brother, “This was your idea wasn’t it?”

“Wha…” Hermione looked at the Team, “Did you follow us?”

They ignored her, Dean glared at Adam.

“I agreed!” Jo protested.

“So did I,” Gabriel raised a hand. “I wanted my horn back,” he stroked it lovingly. He glanced over at Ron, Hermione and Ginny, “And no we didn’t follow you. We have better things to do with our time than stalk you lot.”

“Enough of that!” the red-headed female glanced at the door. “We’re being chased by death eaters! They’re after Harry and the prophecy!”

“Wait, wait!” Dean slowed Ginny down as she tried to move down the hall, “Who else is here?”

Hermione ran a frantic hand through her hair. “Harry, Luna and Neville… We got separated. Listen, we can’t stand around talking… we’ve got to go!” she seemed panicky.

Crowley grinned. “I’ll handle the death eaters,” he said. “You lot run.”

“I’ll help,” Sam stepped up next to him.

“What… no way mate… that’s dangerous!” Ron shook his head.

“Come on!” Dean accepted his brother’s call, bundling Hermione forwards. “Gabriel - lead the way. Castiel, stay with Sam.” Gabe smiled inwardly. There was only one person Dean would trust with his brother.

The next few minutes were a haze of running, the awareness that something was after you, but its physical presence not being there. They exited the hall of interesting things and spun to a stop as they entered the room of many doors. Closing his eyes Gabriel lunged for one, praying to his father that it was the right one.

It wasn’t. It was filled with time related crap and one mangy dude in black.

“Expelliarmus!” Ron shouted.

“Really..?” Dean snapped, as the spell missed and hit some glass, shattering it with a crash. “You’re going to disarm him?” He was still holding Michael’s sword in his hand, and didn’t have time to draw his wand as the death eater fired on him. He raised the sword, blade going up in flames as it absorbed the green light as if it was water.

“What is that…?” Hermione blinked.

“No matter..!” Meg was backing through the door. “Different route..!”

Gabriel aimed his own wand and shot out a curse to transfigure things into pink fluffy bunnies. When learning this, he’d thought the spell was pretty useless (unless you wanted a Duracell rabbit handy), but now after his modifications, it was quite satisfying to see the man scream as he was turned into a rabbit.

“Really..?” Dean was staring at him, “Really..?” It seemed to be the only word in vocabulary. “You can’t smite people so you turn them into rabbits?”

“Pink rabbits,” he corrected, running through another of the spinning doors.

This time the room was dusty and filled with rubble. In the centre of the room upon a rocky podium stood a doorframe… It had curtains hanging at either side and drifting eerily. Gabriel frowned, staring at the rip in the universe, unable to tell where it led too…

“Duck..!” Dean forced him down, pulling Adam with him. A little way over Jo was dragging Hermione and Ron over to the side while Crowley looked after Ginny. Spells were flying overhead, and it appeared that they had run straight into the middle of a battle.

“Harry!” Hermione screamed, spotting the Potter kid over by some stairs with Neville and Lucius Malfoy stalking towards them.

“On three..?” Gabriel asked.

“Adam, go look after…!”

“Screw you!” Youngest Winchester snapped back, “I can look after myself!” and he proved that by shooting a tripping jinx at another masked cloaked dude, sending the guy falling over his own shoelaces which had tied themselves together.

Dean looked impressed and moved towards where the Potter kid needed help. Gabriel trailed after him, mindlessly dodging the occasional stray curse which flew towards them and sending his own back. An ugly fellow seemed to be an open target, for he and Dean both shot spells towards him, the blue and red lights merging to a violet purple which caused the poor guy to fly into a wall, a purple coloured dazed bunny rabbit.

Back-up had arrived for Potter’s gang in the form of red-dress wearing people with a phoenix on their ‘robe’. Gabriel personally thought ‘robes’ were just an excuse for men to wear dresses, considering the Team still managed to go around school half the time dressed in jeans and t-shirts, with the exception of Sam who had an unhealthy obsession with plaid.

Potter’s battle seemed to have moved towards the centre of the room and Dean happily joined it, Michael’s sword now in his left hand and occasionally deflecting back sickly coloured lights towards where the blonde fairy cross-breed and mental woman were fighting.

Gabriel spotted the guy’s godfather Black step up to help Harry, moments before Dean made it over to where the blonde elder Malfoy was and tackled the guy to the side, stealing his wand and kneeing the guy in the groin. Gabriel winced.

Mad woman, Bellatrix, opened her mouth to shout out a curse towards Harry and Black, and Gabriel muttered a useful spell he had discovered.

Sirius Black was saved from falling through the veil by the simple fact that before his cousin could cast the curse, she had an anvil fall on her. It wasn’t fatal, but it did send her sprawling across the ground.

Black blinked. Harry dragged him away from the veil to who knows where. Gabriel cheered at his success and then proceeded to throw a reversing charm at some other death eater, making everything he did happen backwards. The man managed to turn himself into a blob of goo within the next five minutes, which he counted as a good days work in his opinion.

The archangel went over to where Dean was spitting out blood, the blonde ponce having shot a cutting curse at him while simultaneously punching Dean in the nose, the spell narrowly scraping past Dean’s arm as he dodged, falling to one side.

“Come on,” Dean threw of the helping hand Gabriel offered. “Let’s go and get him. He ran away with that anvil bitch.”

The Trickster bemoaned his failure at killing her with the anvil. “Ponce is mine,” he said, racing for the exit, with Dean hot on his heels.

Throughout this whole battle, he still had his horn clutched in his one hand, and now as he ran past the death eater Adam had tripped earlier with the shoelaces trick, staggering to his feet, he lashed out, braining the guy with his instrument.

“Sorry mate,” he called over one shoulder, checking his horn for damage as he and Dean made their way to the atrium, the big golden fountain so shiny and pretty in the fake magical lights.

The Winchester (and when had they started being ‘the’ Winchester when he only wanted to refer to one?) began throwing curses at the crazy Bellatrix. She spun around in a manner akin to Severus Snape and the two began to duel with impressive light flashes.

“What are you lot doing hanging around with Potter?” Lucius Malfoy snarled, as Gabriel transfigured a nearby desk into a crocodile and set it on him. Malfoy set it alight with a wave of his wand.

“We weren’t actually,” Gabriel dodged a spell, “We were stealing stuff from the Ministry and you interrupted us.” He tried the purple bunny spell, but Malfoy happened at that moment to slip on the shiny tiles, wet with water from where Dean and Bellatrix were throwing fire and water respectively at each other in a move Gabriel thought the Michael’s sword might have stolen from the last x-men movie. Dean had the slight advantage due to his flaming sword and the crazy dark haired Lestrange had to throw herself out of the way at the last minute as fire billowed past where she had previously stood.

“You were…” Malfoy threw what looked awfully like a killing curse towards him; “You just happened to be here?” he seemed in disbelief.

“That’s right,” Gabriel smirked. “Just happened to be here.” He tried the pink bunny spell again but it hit its own reflection, bouncing off and shooting towards Dean and Bellatrix, the former who dodged without even looking.

“Watch it feathers!” Dean snapped, finally succeeding in disarming Bellatrix, her wand flying in an arc across the atrium. She lunged after it, and Dean lunged after her.

Gabriel wasn’t even aware there was another person there until Dean was hit by some invisible force and sent flying in a manner akin to demonic telekinesis. Malfoy spotted something and let out a triumphant smirk, seconds before the archangel turned trickster finally succeeded in smiting via bunny rabbit. Even that didn’t work properly, producing a creepy pale pink ball of fluff, like one of those angora rabbits with too much hair.

“Enough…” the new arrival hissed, sounding like a snake and Gabriel whirled around, backing up towards where Dean had fallen and was struggling to his feet. “Where issss the prophecy..?”

“My lord…” Bellatrix had retrieved her wand and was sprawled at the tall guy’s feet. “It was broken and lost, I am sorry…”

“Is this the Voldy guy?” Dean asked, shaking his head dizzily, as if he had a concussion (which he probably did). “Dude what happened to your nose?”

Gabriel laughed, taking in the tall, bald figure, slit like eyes and blurred features, as if someone had tried to rub him out. There was so little left that was human… and something told him that what was left standing in front of him wasn’t enough to even make up a full demon. There were parts missing, torn away and no longer able to join up to the twisted wreck of what was left.

“I’ve heard of you…” The self-named Lord Voldemort stalked across the floor to them, “The ones who believe in angels and demons.” He laughed, “Foolish beliefs. I am more powerful than angels, more terrible than the worst demon…”

“Oh please don’t monologue,” Gabriel whined.

Dean was looking unimpressed. “Yeah, sure terrible and great and you look like a snake. So let me ask you a question… Is it really worth it?”

“Ssssilence..!” Voldemort screamed, angered and his wand flashed out, brownish-red rust coloured beam of light flying out towards them. Gabriel dodged behind a conveniently placed statue, while Dean ducked. “ _Crucio!_ ” the crazy ‘dark lord’ screamed again, and this one hit the head of the stature Gabriel was hiding behind, exploding it into rubble.

“Stop it!” Gabriel hit himself in the forehead as saviour kid arrived, skidding on the still damp floor.

“Harry Potter,” Voldemort sneered, “How nice of you to join us,” and his wand flashed out, rust light flying.

It would have hit, had Dean not tackled the kid out of the way, the curse catching him instead as he fell to the ground, hands clenched into fists as if he was being ripped apart by invisible hellhounds once more. Gabriel could see Dean gritting his teeth, expecting hell pain, and receiving it not.

The pain in hell was everywhere, mind and soul and more than flesh and bone deep. It bit and clung to you in sulphur and ice and fire until you didn’t even know your own name. It had been his father’s punishment to Lucifer, to trap him in the world of his own creation. It was the punishment to the people who made the wrong choices, tearing at their humanity until animalistic instincts remained, blood and fear.

The pain of the curse was fresh and sharp in contrast, like a knife wound, or being shot through the shoulder. It was clean and neat and Dean laughed at the sheer relief. He’d been expecting Hell. Instead he got Heaven, and the pain of Sam’s best memories of being away from him. Instead of fire and brimstone and choking demon smoke, he got the piercing scream and bright harsh white light of the angels.

So he laughed.

Gabriel took a moment to work this out, why the curse had prompted the elder Winchester to laugh, but he recognised the note of relief in the tone. Harry vanished behind the fountain, eyes wide as the curse which ripped people’s sanity to shreds, caused a kid to laugh, his sanity already torn open.

“Come out, come out little Potter,” Voldemort sneered, stopping the curse. Dean gasped, as if coming up for breath and Gabriel glanced out from behind his statue, wincing at the Winchester’s state. “Or else your friend gets another taste of it.”

Dean somehow managed to push himself up, despite the feeling of his nerve ends being flayed. It had been worse when he pulled himself off the rack after all, where reality was so flimsy there was no floor, no up or down just the chains suspending you in nothing. “Taste of what?” he grinned, lip bloody from where he had bitten it. “I lasted under thirty years of torture far worse than that…”

Voldemort responded to taunt by throwing another curse at Dean, but it got deflected by the archangel blade still in his hand. He let out a primal scream of rage and the next thing out of the wand was a fire which twisted into a giant snake, fangs bared.

A mellow cry and a phoenix flew past, the fire engulfing it and vanishing, as ash collected on the ground, a new born bird chirping through, reborn again.

“Dumbledore…” Voldemort sneered, looking around. Gabriel ignored the next fight, moving instead over to Dean.

“Sam’s going to kill me,” he muttered, and Dean laughed as they limped out of the way.

“Don’t tell him,” the Michael Sword mumbled. “I just want to sleep now…”

Something exploded in the main atrium, and then there was silence broken only by a cry of pain. It appeared Voldemort was… was he trying to possess the kid?

“He makes a rubbish demon,” Gabriel replied, “Can’t even possess someone – there isn’t enough of him.” He remarked, as Voldemort vanished, all the glass shattering and falling downwards, turning to sand as it fell. “Here,” Gabriel pulled some of his emergency chocolate stash out and passed it to Dean. “You know, I kind of wish I’d stayed around to help you guys with the apocalypse.”

“We do too.” Dean blinked, accepting the candy, “But we understand why you didn’t. Well… I do. If Sam and Adam were battling it out, I’d run and hide somewhere too. Once…. Once I think I’d have picked Sam in a heartbeat. Hell I did when Death asked me whether I wanted Sam or Adam out of the cage – it was Sam without a doubt, but now…”

“Thank you for not killing them,” Gabriel admitted.

“What about Raphael and Zachariah?” Dean smirked.

The archangel considered it. “I didn’t like Zach much ever. He was always too full of himself, but Raphael… well… he used to be a lot nicer. He was the angel of healing; he’d always listen and try to help. He grew a bit… disillusioned with the world.”

Dean snorted. “Ya’ think?” he chewed on his chocolate for a moment, “Hey, what would happen if you blew the horn?”

“It’s a horn,” Gabriel sighed. “It doesn’t do anything. It just makes a nice noise.”

“Horn of truth just makes a nice noise?”

“Well you have to tell the truth if you hear it, but beyond that…” he shrugged, “It doesn’t shoot out fire like that sword of yours.”

“Of Michael’s…”

“It’s yours now.”

“Unfortunately…”

“Mr Winchester, Mr Novak…” the pair looked up to see Lupin approaching them, trailed by Adam, Meg and Jo. The three looked none the worse for wear.

“Sam…” Dean staggered to his feet, leaning heavily on Gabriel. “Where’s Sam?”

“He’s fine,” Jo said, “He, Crowley and Cass are back at Hogwarts. They somehow managed to capture about ten death eaters and knock them out, tie them up and leave them naked in their underwear. He’s been hanging out with Gabriel too much.”

And the archangel felt ridiculously proud of the younger Winchester for that, despite the fact he thought it had probably been Crowley’s idea. Castiel would have gone along with anything regardless of comedic value.

“What are…” in the background the Minister was blustering to Dumbledore, “What are these children doing here Dumbledore?” he gestured at the five Team members.

“That’s a good question,” Dumbledore looked over his half-moon glasses at them, “I am aware of what Harry and his friends are doing here… but these students…?” he left it hanging, a question.

“What are you doing here?” Lupin prompted, when no answer was provided.

Now he was bombarded with several answers.

“Study project...”

“Bored…”

“Looking after Potter and his friends…”

“Yeah we were totally not stealing stuff from the department of mysteries...”

Everyone looked at Gabriel in shock, and the Minister’s eyes widened as he spotted the golden horn in the Trickster’s arms. “Is that… Merlin’s beard...!”

“No it’s not Merlin’s beard.” Gabriel said, clutching his horn a little tighter. How the idiot _thought_ it looked a little bit like a beard was beyond him.

“That’s the horn of judgement.” A dark skinned man standing with Lupin whispered. Gabriel remembered his name was Kingsley. “How did…”

“Drop it!” Dumbledore said, sternly. “Now..! We might still be able to save you.”

“Save me?” Gabriel frowned. He had no idea what they were getting at.

Kingsley spoke up gravely. “Everyone who touched the horn of judgement dies within twenty four hours.”

“I’m sorry my boy…” Dumbledore said gently as Lupin moved forwards to pick it up.

“But it’s my horn! Get your filthy paws of it!” Gabriel batted away the werewolf. “My baby wouldn’t kill me…”

“It won’t.” Dean sighed, trying to stand upright while Gabriel was dancing around. Meg was surprisingly the one who replaced the archangel as a support. “We all wish it will but it won’t. It’s an unfortunate fact of life.” Dean shrugged, sword still in his hand.

“Is that the flaming sword?” Fudge’s gaze was drawn to the blade in his hand. Meg consequently flinched at spotting the angel blade and almost sent Dean and her tumbling to the ground.

“Yeah, it does that.” Dean remarked, as if commenting on the weather.

“But you’re not burning to death.” Fudge’s eyes were wide.

“No… why would I be….” Dean began, only to have the sword light up in response. “Ow… stop doing that you f***ing sword!” Meg flinched away as Dean tried to put out the fire that had sprung up along the blade. As a consequence, both she and Dean tripped over, so Adam moved in to help his brother, trying to avoid being hit by a fiery blade as Dean growled “Stop it!” and the fire obediently died.

“All men who touch it burn to death screaming in agony but you’re…” Kingsley stopped, staring at Dean who looked really pissed off at Michael’s sword. “Commanding it…”

Haha – the Michael Sword was pissed at Michael’s sword. Gabriel chuckled.

“Wow, Gabriel, do all angelic weapons kill so brutally?” Dean sighed, slipping the blade into a pocket of his jacket with express commands not to start burning.

“Only those belonging to archangels,” Gabriel shrugged.

“That sucks.”

“Mr Novak, Mr Winchester…. Give those weapons back at once!” Fudge seemed alarmed.

“Please put the weapons down,” Dumbledore tried to, but he seemed to know it wasn’t going to work.

“No way..! This is my horn and I’m keeping it!” Gabriel shook his head.

“Oh let them keep their trinkets.” The black dude shrugged, “We’ve got worse things to worry about that locked away toys. Voldemort is back.” Kingsley said gravely.

This seemed to distract the Minister from the issue as he looked warily around the ruined atrium.

“And can someone please tell me what Lucius Malfoy is doing as a bunny rabbit?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was fun. And I'm sorry (not sorry) for the multiple references to Michael that keep cropping up. I have no idea how this fic changes from serious to crack in a few paragraphs, but either way I hope you enjoyed it.


	6. The Same Reasons You Do What You Do (Meg)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you asked Meg five years ago what she thought of the Winchesters, her answer would be 'irritating, soon-to-die playthings'. A year ago she would have answered 'unlucky people-to-be-avoided'. Since being forced to live with them and see them more than once every 24 hours, her opinion was now firmly cemented in 'wish-I-never-had-met-them-except-I'm-kind-of-glad -I-have." Because maybe now she was on their side in this whole mess.  
> Those bastards. TFWY5, HPY4

**Chapter 6: Your boyfriend first…**

"New teacher," Meg noted, as the guy threw open the doors and strolled in. Sam and Dean, the two paranoid idiots were already half-way out of their seat, Sam holding some kind of machete (where did he keep that thing?) and Dean holding his Colt.

Having decided to sit at the Ravenclaw table, since there was usually more food there than at Gryffindor table (the lions were like starved dogs and the red-heads alone managed to devour at least half the food available for consumption), the wooden-legged man had to walk right past where Dean and Sam were seconds away from shooting and/or stabbing him. He paused to eye them with a creepy fake eye which moved on its own.

"Good reflexes," he commented, gruffly. "Constant vigilance... You two could teach the rest of these idiots something."

The brothers had already slid back down, neither saying anything as the new teacher strolled to the front and was introduced as Professor Moody.

"Hear they call him Mad-Eye," Naturally Crowley had already picked up the gossip. "Paranoid ex-auror... You'll get along well boys," he smirked at the Winchesters.

Dean didn't answer, too distracted by the food that had appeared and Meg turned away in disgust. "He'll be gone by the end of this year," she said, huffily.

"They all are," Gabriel paused, thinking about it, "Some sort curse probably, but I've never noticed a cursed object at all…" He shrugged. Jo had dragged Castiel into looking for a cursed object as well, Meg recalled, and the pair hadn't found anything. "Oh well. It keeps things interesting."

He was right. The new teacher was a strict, no-nonsense slave driver who reminded Meg of Azazel, and judging by the way Sam and Dean had snapped to attention when he entered the room, probably reminded them of John too.

Yellow-Eyes and Daddy Winchester were more similar than they'd ever have themselves believe.

"Unforgivable curses," the teacher wrote on the blackboard, his fake eye spinning around that room. "Stop writing love-notes in my lesson Edgecombe,"

A girl in Sam's house flinched, paper falling to the floor as the Defence Professor strolled forwards, dumping a jar upside down, a large spider scuttling out of it.

"Come on class! Speak up!"

A student raised their hand. "Imperius Curse."

The spider stopped moving and began to tap-dance obediently, like a puppet on a string. Several students laughed, while Winchesters two both looked slightly sick. Meg wondered if that was what it was like to be possessed, to have someone else controlling your action.

Castiel looked sad, and she wondered if Clarence used to be a puppet too, once.

"Cruciatus curse…" and the spider made a high pitched whining noise of pain. Castiel and Sam looked similarly disgusted while Meg and Dean looked disgusted for a different reason.

"That's so… so lazy," Meg sneered, whispering to him, because even if they didn't talk about Hell, they'd been down there together under Alistair's loving guidance. She'd even torn Dean apart once, and when he'd got off that rack, bloodied and green eyes not quite so green any more, he'd found her eventually.

"Effective," Dean whispered back, "But not as much f…" he stopped himself from finishing the word 'fun' but Meg knew what he meant. Elder Winchester was going through a brief panic before eventually swallowing and saying "It's a cheap method of pain. At least down in the Pit you had to work for it." He ignored the pity look Sam and Clarence shot him.

"And finally..?" Moody looked around the classroom, but nobody volunteered. "Killing curse," he spat out the incantation. "Only one person's ever survived it, and he's in this school." A flash of green light and dead spider later, he turned back to them. "You aren't taught how to use these spells, but I am allowed to test you."

"For what..?" Dean joked, "Pain threshold?" his lip curled. "How well we stay dead?"

Sam smirked. Meg was of the opinion that Death liked them a little too much, and that was the only reason they weren't dead right now.

"Illegal, Mr Winchester," the man said, and if she didn't know better she'd have thought he seemed regretful. "Any of them would get you sent to Azkaban. I have however, as a teacher and ex-auror, been allowed to test you out for Imperius, so you can try to fight. Which of course you wouldn't have to if you exercised CONSTANT VIGILANCE..!"

The whole class jumped as he motioned a student up to the front. Cho Chang looked nervous, glancing at her friend for support. "Imperio," Moody intoned, and Meg could see the moment she stopped thinking, and just started to listen as the teacher commanded her to spin around, arms out like a ballerina.

She came back to herself, dizzy and embarrassed, scuttling to her seat.

"You..!" Moody snapped at Dean, "Get up here Winchester!"

The Michael sword frowned, "No." he shook his head. "This is beyond stupid… teaching children these things."

"Get up here," the teacher sighed, "Or I will make you."

Dean laughed. "Go on." He taunted, "I've been through worse." And he had.

"Imperio..!" Moody barked at Dean, taking him up on his offer. Meg watched as his eyes slid out of focus for the fraction of a second before he shook his head. "Now get up to the front of the class Winchester!"

"And why exactly would I do that?" he asked, face twisted. "I said I'll stay here and I meant it."

Moody looked surprised and pleased. "See that?" he gestured to Dean with the end of his wand causing the Winchester to flinch slightly. "He resisted! Only had two other students in the whole school manage that – one loony Ravenclaw third year and a fourth year Gryffindor."

"It can't be that hard," Sam whispered to Meg, "And if it's anything like throwing off possession…"

"Imperio…! Stop talking in my class Samuel Winchester!"

Sam looked similarly dazed for an instant before he laughed. "Hell, that isn't even hard. Not compared to Lucifer!"

Moody looked slightly alarmed as he tried it out on Meg. For a moment Meg could see how the spell worked, the intoxicated feeling that obeying gave her, but she was a demon and it slid off her like water and oil. The voice, demanding her to walk up to the front of the classroom was faint and she could barely hear it really.

"It's like a conscience," she theorised. "Don't listen to it."

"That's not the point of a conscience Meg," Sam grumpily tried to explain as the teacher moved onto testing out Cass. The angel was currently talking to Dean, and he didn't even appear to notice the spell.

"How are you doing this?" Moody snapped as he tried to 'Imperio' Dean again, then Sam and then Cass. None of them blinked and Cass, who was writing something down, still didn't notice.

Dean thought the answer should have been obvious. "Magic," he said, snorting. "How else..?" He definitely wasn't going to say anything along the lines of angel vessels or angels or demons. Not yet at least. He'd have to warn Jo about it though… Adam should be okay with it after Michael…

Meg laughed, as an imperio was shot her way. She let her eyes slide black for the briefest of seconds as she languished in the intoxication yet refused to listen to the voice. It faded within seconds. "It's like being stoned," she said.

Dean frowned. "A bit…"

Sam blanched. "Dude how do you even know what that's like?"

The Michael Sword glanced at his brother, "Don't you?" he countered, meeting his brother's gaze to show he meant no harm in the statement. For a moment Meg was confused, and then she remembered that Sam had spent a year as a demon blood junkie.

"I…" Sam paused. "Actually now you mention it… but I'm not thinking about that. Otherwise you'll lock me in another panic room…"

"Actually I was talking about first year."

Meg winced. "None of us remember what that's like…" she pointed out. "Except Clarence who starts talking about bees." She ignored the blue-eyed stare from the wayward angel in question.

The door to their classroom slammed shut and Meg looked up to realise that their teacher had just walked out on them.

Huh. Wonder what his problem was?

* * *

The next lesson was similarly interesting. The teacher sent death-glares at the four of them, and from what Crowley had said he didn't like the others any more than he liked the 'Kill Crowley' side of Team Free Will.

Unfortunately Meg was the only one who agreed with that part of the name. She didn't even mean anything bad by it; it was just that the only other time they had teamed up was to break into Crowley's base.

According to said King of Hell, Crowley and Adam had ignored it completely, while Jo had half-managed to resist and ended up tripping over her own table. Gabriel had acted as if under a compulsion, but done the exact opposite of whatever he instructed, in true Trickster fashion.

Meg was honestly terrified of the archangel sometimes.

Moody was currently ranting about enemy territory, and Castiel, who was vigorously making notes asked Dean, as he was liable to do whenever something human confused him. "How often does he think I intend to wander onto enemy territory?"

"What do you think the practical is going to involve?" asked Sam, looking at the lesson plans.

Meg snickered, "Portkeying into Snape's office," she whispered back.

Dean grinned. "Not us. He hates us so much we'll be sent to his private quarters. Moody would drink himself drunk with that hip-flask of his once he hears we died horribly and painfully after seeing Snape in the bath."

Meg and Sam blanched. Castiel just looked freakishly curious.

Then again Clarence always looked curious. Meg didn't know why he wasn't in the nerd house with Sam.

* * *

Meg honestly didn't know what all the fuss was about. So there was some big tournament going on which would involve other schools appearing, lots of dangerous tasks that… oh… wait… only three tasks that would be intermittent during the year and beyond that not very interesting.

Adam meanwhile was having a nervous breakdown, due to the plot of this book. This book… this year… Meg had a hard time keeping the supposedly fictional aspect of this out of her thoughts, even if it wasn't so much as fictional, as it was a true account written to appear fictional.

Much like Sam and Dean's Winchester Gospels. She had yet to get a hold of those, but according to Crowley it was worth a read. She herself would appear in some of the early ones, but in the meatsuit which was actually called Meg.

"So the defence teacher is actually an escaped convict?" Dean asked, and he looked a bit freaked. "What is it with the convicts around here – so much for that super prison," he scoffed, trying to hide how much that fact had gotten to him. Meg realised why, that Moody reminded him of Alistair... Hell he reminded her of the Inquisitor too and apparently with good reason.

"And Lord Voldemort gets resurrected!" Adam hissed to them, "Can we really allow that to happen?"

"We can't change it," Castiel looked grave; "It is destiny."

"Screw destiny!" Dean spat, "We pissed off Atropos and wrote our own ending."

"Did you?" Gabriel asked, "Or were you just doing what was always planned?"

"F*** you, off course we weren't!"

"Enough," Meg stopped the argument in its tracks. "We made an agreement guys. No interfering."

Reluctantly Jo nodded along with her, and that was a surprise, since Jo never agreed with her. "This isn't our fight," she told them, "Not this time. We've fought our battles, far harder than this, and we won. Leave them to fight their battles."

"But they're kids!" Adam protested.

"So were we!" Sam snapped. "You think I asked to have demon-blood? Or for Dean and I to be Michael and Lucifer's meatsuits?" realising he had raised his voice, he shut up.

"I can't just… I can't just watch," Adam protested, before spinning around and stalking off. He seemed to be the emotional Winchester, since Sam and Dean were allergic to it.

Jo sighed, "I'll go after him," she said, hurrying down the corridor in his wake.

Meg rolled, her eyes, turning to ask Clarence something.

Cass and Dean were in the middle of a long and meaningful eye-stare. She decided not to interrupt and instead exchanged a long-suffering look with Sam.

How did he cope with them?

* * *

Jo managed to drag Adam down later to watch the other schools arriving. Gabriel had found a section of wall to sit on, and to see over the heads of the rest of the students. The Gryffindor pair was sitting together at the far end, while Meg sat next to Crowley, making sarcastic comments as the winged horses flew in tugging a carriage behind it. Dean and Adam both looked a funny shade of green at the thought of that flying contraption.

"There aren't easier methods of travel?" Meg asked nobody in particular. "I'd hate to see what this school would come up with if they had to go somewhere. Probably magic train again... they are so un-inventive."

The collective drooling of the Hogwarts males was interrupted by the surfacing of the Durmstrang students in what looked like an old sailing ship in the Black Lake.

"Bet the Giant Squid loved that thing showing up," Meg snarked only to be shushed Crowley who was actually examining the new arrivals. The French were dressed in blue uniforms, trailing like obedient puppies behind their head teacher while in contrast, the Germans (at least they were assumed to be Germans, but Belgium would have worked too) were soldiers, marching and standing in neat little lines.

"Those French girls," Dean whistled. Castiel sent him a disapproving glare which made Meg want to lock them in a closet so they could come out together. The angel and Winchester were Narnia deep though, so she sighed, and checked to see if Sam was a drooling mess. "Hey, do you think…" Dean had not even hit sixteen and he was already looking to find a girl. Meg wondered if the Michael Sword had been this bad the first time around, or if this was Dean being good and keeping his hands to himself.

At least he hadn't hit on her yet.

Upon entering the hall for dinner, the French went over to the table with the blue ties, matching their own outfit or something similar. Crowley had already booked their usual end of the table seats over at Slytherin, with the surrounding seats vacated as usual. It was a common and unspoken practice at Hogwarts to let Team Free Will have the seats at the far end, furthest away from the staff table and nearest to the doors, and then to leave the surrounding seats empty.

Unfortunately the Durmstrang students didn't get the memo, as seeing the vacated seats began filling them up. Malfoy, the blonde ponce Meg was secretly convinced was a fairy pulled a few of his cronies in to try and produce a good impression, because otherwise the foreigners might be scared away by the Team's weirdness or something.

Treating it like a normal supper, Jo began explaining her theory about iron rings making ghosts tangible enough to punch and claimed she wanted to test it out with Peeves, so could Sam and Dean please lay a salt trap for him.

Meg pushed her pasta moodily around her plate, half-listening to her friend's conversation… (acquaintances, she meant acquaintances!) and half to Malfoy as he bragged to some famous sports star.

Eventually though the question she had been waiting to hear came up and she smirked, eyes flashing black. Sam shot her a warning glance and she blinked them back to brown innocently.

"Who are de?" Viktor Krum gestured towards them, asking the blonde ponce.

"Oh, them?" Malfoy sneered. "They're mentally insane. I wouldn't talk to them if I were you."

Gabriel chose that moment to stroll by, having gone all the way to the Ravenclaw table to bring back some ridiculously sweet dish that would satisfy his crazy sweet tooth. "Be grateful that you're not him," he told Viktor, wisely. "He's terrible in bed."

The pale kid blushed pink as the archangel continued down to where they sat, Dean, Sam, Jo and Crowley opposite Gabriel, Meg, Cass and Adam. Meg was still smirking.

Viktor laughed at the joke, much to Malfoy's embarrassment. "I am Viktor Krum," he nodded at the group, "I see dat you do not stay vithin your house restrictions?" he queried.

"They should," Malfoy sniffed.

"Why should we?" Meg sneered at him, "We're not going to stop being friends just because we are in different houses. Just as any friends these other school kids make with our school aren't going to forget each other at the end of the year."

"Too true," the burly sportsman nodded. "Vell said…" he paused, asking for a name.

"Meg Masters," Dean introduced her, "I'm Dean Winchester, and these are my brothers Sam and Adam. Gabriel and Castiel Novak," he gestured towards the angels, "Jo Harvelle and Crowley McLeod."

Krum looked from Dean to Sam to Adam. "Triplets?" he asked.

Meg laughed, because everyone asked that. "Sam and Dean are twins," she drawled, and despite it being a lie, it was probably more truthful than any other lies they told people. "Adam's their younger brother, and our guardians asked the school so he could be in the same year as all of us."

Said Winchester grumbled under his breath, "I hate being the youngest."

"You are all too young to enter de tournament?" Krum looked around the group.

Gabriel blinked, considering his options. "We're not old enough," he said, "I'm the oldest and only just turned sixteen, and Adam as the youngest is fifteen."

The blatant lie went undetected by all except the Team. Considering Crowley, Cass, Gabe and Meg were all indeterminable ages, and Dean was 33 (39 including the years at the school, and 79 including Hell), Sam was 29 (34 or 164 depending how you look at it) while Jo and Adam were 27 (32) and 22 (27) respectively.

Basically nobody really knew how old they were anymore in simple turns.

As it turned out, neither did the so called age-line that Dumbledore drew across the goblet. The Weasley twins were repelled by the age-line, growing long white beards.

"My turn," Meg watched as Gabriel scrawled a name on a piece of paper, and catching sight of it she winced. The crowd whispered amongst themselves as Gabriel stepped across, waiting for ten seconds amongst awed mutterings before dropping the name in.

He skipped out towards them. "Success!" he cheered.

"You entered yourself?" Sam asked.

"What? No way! A tournament with a high death toll – you'd have to be an idiot to do that."

Cautiously, Dean went sniffing about the line, and eventually stepped over. Nothing happened to him either. "I think this thing is broken," he remarked to them.

"Dean, this isn't a good idea," Castiel tried to tell his friend. Personally Meg agreed with the angel.

"Mr Winchester!" McGonagall caught him standing behind the line. "How did you get there?"

"I walked Professor," Dean smiled charmingly at her, giving her what Meg called his 'I'm adorable' smirk. Not that she found it adorable or anything.

"How did you bypass the line?" Dumbledore appeared from nowhere besides her, stroking his beard and Dean hurriedly stepped back over.

"No clue." he shrugged, pretending not to notice. "Hey Gabe, hand me that other piece of paper…"

Gabriel laughed and screwed it up into a ball tossing it over. Considering the name written on the first, Meg could guess who they were entering this time as Dean dropped the scrunched up paper ball in.

"Who did you enter?" Dumbledore looked grave. He looked that way a lot around them.

"No-one at this school," Dean assured him. "None of our names either – we don't want to enter and if we end up entering, and then we'll suffer the contract and die in screaming agony." He said this all calmly and Sam sighed next to Meg.

"I apologise for my brother," Sam told the teachers, "I assure you, we take all the blame for anything that goes wrong." He grabbed Dean, already at a similar height due to him currently having his famous Moose growth spurt. "Come on," he pulled Dean away, ignoring his protests.

"My turn!" Crowley stepped forwards, but stopped when the teachers levelled glares at him. "What? So Squirrel and Feathers can enter acquaintances but I can't?" The glares intensified. "Oh screw that," the Hell King stalked out of the entrance hall in annoyance.

"Who did you enter?" Jo asked Gabriel curiously. Cass just shot his elder brother a long suffering look.

"Really Gabriel? Did you have to aggravate them further?"

"They're my brothers!" Gabe protested, "That's what I do!"

Meg knew it. Damn that stupid trickster.

"We are so going to die when Potter's name comes out," Adam muttered, head in hands.

Meg silently agreed with the littlest Winchester. She had no idea what he meant but Adam was the only sensible Winchester around and she agreed with him on that basis.

* * *

They didn't die, but after Potter vanished into the chamber at the back of the Hall, Dumbledore gestured to the Team to join him. They trailed behind him and no sooner had they entered the room did the kicking and screaming start.

"Did you enter Potter's name?"

"How did you get past the age line?"

"Did Potter get you to enter his name?"

"Why is there a fourth competitor?"

"Can't ve 'ave second competizors az vell..?"

"Silence!" Dumbledore raised his hands in the air. "First thing first... Mr Novak – how did you get past the age line?"

"I walked."

"No smart-aleck answers boy," Snape sneered, "You're a disgrace to your house."

"He's telling the truth!" Dean protested, and Meg closed her eyes. Why was it always those two who got into trouble? Sam was much nicer and so she stayed standing by him.

"There's a way to verify that," Crouch looked grim as Snape revealed a small crystal clear vial filled with what looked like water.

It was never going to be water and Meg's eyes widened as the teachers explained what they were going to do.

"Truth serum…?" Dean narrowed his eyes. "Is that even allowed on minors?"

Regardless of the fact that he regularly complained to Sam he was actually thirty three, Dean seemed content to use the age restrictions to their advantage.

"In regards to this competition, yes." Dumbledore looked grave.

"Fine," Gabriel shrugged. "Test us. We'll tell you the same thing."

Snape obediently moved forwards like a giant bat to drip some onto their tongues. Meg couldn't even taste the clear liquid. Maybe it was water and it was all mental stimulation? Who knew? Magicians were weird.

"Whose name did you put in the Goblet?" Dumbledore demanded.

Dean and Gabriel didn't even look guilty. "Michael." Dean admitted, and next to him Adam snickered.

"Lucifer," Gabriel followed his example, and Sam rolled his eyes.

Crowley frowned. "What does that do to them? Stuck in the cage?"

Gabriel shrugged. "Nothing. It's just like an annoying tickling sensation to them. Must drive them mad."

"But Michael isn't in the cage in this time!?" Sam looked confused and slightly panicked. "What if he turns up like a summoning? What if he blinds everyone? Or forces Dean or Adam to say yes?"

"Stop worrying," Gabriel sighed, "I mean… I just put down Michael and there must be loads of Michael's in this school. It refers to the one you mean, and the ones I meant were the pair squabbling in the cage. Y'know magic's all about intentions and all that crap…"

"Even if it didn't…" Sam mused, "I doubt he'd really care that much up in Heaven…"

Dumbledore was frowning. "You put down the names 'Michael' and 'Lucifer'?" he must have seen the pattern.

Crouch was stuttering. "Are you meaning to say that these…  _children_ …?"

Dean and Jo spluttered in indignation.

Crouch glared at them. "They tried to enter the  _devil_  and… and… who  _is_  Michael anyway?"

"Archangel," Adam and Dean spoke freakily at the same time. Of course, the truth potion was still working.

"Right..." Barty Crouch looked unimpressed. "An archangel and a devil..."

Dumbledore was wearily pinching his nose. "They… their family are strongly religious… they harbour delusions…"

"Actually," it was probably wasn't sensible for Dean to speak up but he did anyway. "My wand core is a feather from Michael." Which was true... It wasn't like he could lie.

They stared at him in shock. Meg wished (and not for the first time) that she had never met the Winchesters.

Dean wisely shut up at this point. "Look can we go? We didn't enter the kid… which one was it again?" he's bluffing (that's not a lie, and it slides by the potion)… they all know its Potter… it's all about Potter… the freaking book series was about him, hell they were even named after him.

Then again there was a series about Sam and Dean called Supernatural, not Winchester and the Yellow-Eyed Demon. Which was just as well, since the fourth book would be called Dean Winchester and the Angel That Pulled Him out Of Hell (and all the gay sex that didn't happen).

Sam Winchester and the Time He Lost His Soul…

The Winchester Brothers and the Leviathans of Purgatory…

The Winchester Brothers and the Devil's Cage…

Yeah… maybe not…

Dumbledore nodded. "Go back to your common rooms. And please – I don't want to hear anything about you this year. Not like last year when you were caught with that book."

"Yes Sir," Sam sounded like he did when he was talking to John.

"Try to keep them in line," Dumbledore directed to Sam, seemingly able to understand that Sam was the sensible one. "And inform your brother and the rest of your friends not to try anything funny." He continued, as if the others weren't even there.

"There's another one! Dear god no." Crouch looked legitimately terrified.

"There are three." Snape looked disgusted. "Twins and a younger brother."

The man looked horrified, and Meg could completely sympathise with them.

* * *

Lounging in the back of Moody's classroom, Meg watched as the red-head Marietta struggled and failed to produce a silver mist. "I don't get it," Meg said.

"Don't get what?" Sam asked, leaning over. "The spell?"

"It's based on a happy memory," she said, struggling to fully understand the concept. She hated the look Sam shot her.

Dean and Castiel seemed to be having the same trouble. "So… family right?" Dean frowned, thinking about something and the trying the spell. A feathery thing shot out of his wand. "Oh you've got to be kidding me," Dean muttered as the feathered thing vanished. "What's with all the Michael references?"

"Expectro Patronum," Castiel intoned, and nothing more than silver mist appeared. "Gabriel managed to get his first time," he seemed peeved. "It formed the shape of a Magpie." The rest of the Team, a lesson ahead of them, had all managed to get a form eventually. Jo was immensely proud of her tiger, while Adam settled for a jay. Crowley seemed quite pleased with his hound as well. And of course Gabriel got the bird addicted to all things shiny first time around, and considering he was a trickster, it was kind of expected that he had more than enough happy memories. Meg had thought that his brothers being dicks of archangels it might have affected him, but it appeared that he had the amazing ability to move on with his life, unlike some other brothers that she knew.

"A patronus is a guardian," Meg read the text book, as if it would help her, "It takes the form of that which protects the user. Often confused with the form of an anamagi, which takes the shape of that person's soul…often the two are the same but to have varying forms for both is not unusual..." she sighed, pushing the book away. "This is useless."

She eyed the Michael sword as he stared long and hard at his little brother, before spinning around and trying the spell. This time the silver animal was clear, a raven, spread wings and bright eyes as it circled around Dean's head, mouth open in a silent caw.

"No fair!" Sam whined, as he got nothing but a silver mist.

Meg's mind was thrown back to a conversation they had once had about each other's soul animals. It had been generally agreed upon that Gabriel's was a magpie, which was the form his patronus had formed, as if the archangel was used to protecting himself.

Sam had been a raven, a predator in its own way, while a scavenger in another. It was a symbol of death, but did nothing wrong. She wasn't sure who had first come up with the idea, but it had stuck.

"Something happy Sammy," Dean was trying to coach his little brother, his own raven still flying around.

"Expectro Patronum," Sam snapped, and a four legged shape materialised. His eyes widened and it faded.

"Try again." Dean instructed, smiling.

Sam did, and Meg was honestly not surprised by the gangly lanky legged wolf which looked as if it had been crossbred with a dog trotted out to join the raven. The pair circled around each other in apparent joy.

While Sam had been the bird with wings of freedom, Dean had been the protective guardian mongrel, loyal to his pack and a hunter to the bone.

The Winchester's guardian that they summoned to save themselves was the other brother in animal form. The Dean wolf-dog appeared to Sam while Sam's raven appeared to Dean. It was too quaint for words and once would have made her feel slightly sick, but now she just rolled her eyes.

Meg laughed, leaning back and watching as Dean began trying to show Cass. She was so busy watching the gradual formation of a golden eagle that she almost missed Sam staring at her.

"What?" she asked, glaring at him, "Will you stop _looking_  at me like that..?"

"You claim you're never happy," Sam said, shrugging, "But look at you now. What are you feeling?"

"I…" Meg stopped. She thought about it for a moment, the place of contentedness in her mind, relaxed as she was.

It was like she was almost human.

She was reminded of sometime around November in their second year (coincidentally around Sam and Dean's birthday) when the Team had been dragged down to a frozen corridor to look at a mirror. The twins (and she had to keep reminding herself that they weren't really twins) had been celebrating their hated birthday by sneaking around at night with Cass trailing after them, and they had stumbled onto a mirror.

"Pretty reflection?" Gabriel yawned, after they collected him and Crowley from the dungeons. Somehow Cass knew the password, and considering Meg knew the current Gryffindor password that was nothing new. The only place she had trouble getting into was the Ravenclaw tower, which had some impossible riddles. Sam had picked up the knack for them a while ago, while Meg was still trying to persuade him to tell her what 'the more you take, the more you leave behind' turned out to be. Thankfully Dean and Jo weren't any good at them either, so they usually sent Adam or Crowley up if they needed the nerdy Winchester for any reason.

Her own common room was the easiest to get into, with a simple tapping pattern. It had be the right barrel though, otherwise as Crowley had found out, you got coated in some very hot vinegar. The Hell King still didn't realise that Dean and Meg had told him that on purpose. The common room itself was very hobbit-esque according to Dean, who still seemed a bit peeved that it sounded like a marshmallow. It was certainly far warmer than the cold corridor Meg found herself dragged along, to an abandoned classroom with a mirror in it.

"Oh, it's  _that_  mirror," Adam said. "So what did you see in it?"

"I didn't look," Dean shrugged, "I might not know much about this stuff but I did see the first movie."

"It's a mirror," Crowley eyed the writing around the outside. "Erised straeh…" he paused, "That's not a language."

Adam sighed, "It's backwards. I show not your face but your heart's desire. Mirror of Desire."

"Kind of ironic." Gabriel laughed, "A mirror with a reflected name."

"It shows you what you want the most," Dean elaborated, for those of them who didn't understand evasive prose which then raised the question of how Dean could comprehend it.

"Well?" Jo asked, "Are you going to look in it?"

Meg watched as Dean stared for a moment at the mirror. "No." he said eventually. "I mean… do you not look in it and spend your time wondering what you would have seen or do you look and spend your life knowing that you can't ever have it because half the people there are dead?"

There was an awkward silence, broken by Sam as he tentatively asked, "Mom?"

"Jess," Dean replied back at him.

"Lisa and Ben," and Dean flinched slightly at that one. Crowley looked slightly guilty.

"Dad," the older brother retaliated. "Gwen. Hell even Samuel. Everyone who died because of us. Family. Alive. Because knowing us… it's like some sort of curse. Everyone we meet dies. We don't have friends because all our friends are dead. So no, I'm not going to look in that stupid thing because I know what I'm going to see, and I know that I can't have it."

"I don't want to," Adam spoke up, voice trembling. "I… I don't know if I'll see you guys or if I'll see my mom and everything how it was, before the ghouls, before Michael… If you desire both then what do you get?"

"So most of us see family," Gabriel sighed, and Meg didn't need to ask to know that he'd see Lucifer, Michael and his father in the mirror.

"Or home," Jo said. "The roadhouse… it burnt down."

"But what about your dad?" Sam asked.

"My dad would be alive. Mom would be happy. I'd be serving hunters just like before the Apocalypse, with Sam and Dean popping in for a visit. Just like it was." Jo shook her head, dispelling the memories. "What about you Cass?" she asked the angel. "Heaven? Peace on earth? Finding your father?"

"It is said that the happiest man on earth can look into the mirror and see only himself." Castiel told them. "I don't think I am without want but… I believe I am content. God is around and still with us, Sam and Dean are not liable to die any time soon, and the world is not likely to end."

"Knowing the Winchester luck that's not going to last," Meg muttered.

None of them had glanced at the mirror, and now Crowley looked at the gold frame and smooth glass. "I don't think any of us want to know," he said. "I think we don't need to – we already know."

"So what?" Adam looked curious, "You want to be the King of Hell?"

"He's already the King of Hell," Meg snapped, drawing attention to herself. "What?" as they turned to look at her.

"What would you see?" Sam asked her, the only one brave enough to face her wrath, little as it might be now she was all non-demon and crap. "Lucifer winning?"

"You think that's what my heart's desire is?" she snorted. "Try again Sammy."

"Don't call me that," Sam snapped, before glancing around at them. "Come on then – it's freezing. If none of us are going to look then we might as well find somewhere warmer."

"Camp out in the Hufflepuff Common Room!" Gabriel claimed, and Castiel looked alarmed as Gabriel raced off. Meg just sighed and followed after.

She knew what she'd see. She'd see herself, her eyes brown and human.

She'd see herself as a human and not a demon.

She was already as close to that as she was ever going to get.

Sam was still staring at her, in their defence lesson as Cass continued practising the spell. She glared at him "Shut up," she snapped instead. She didn't do the mushy feeling crap.

"Try it," Sam dared her.

She fixed him with black eyes before sighing and whispering the spell. "Expectro patronum." Expect protection. She didn't expect the creature to barrel out of her wand, bright eyed and fluffy tail as it hopped over to frolic with Cass' eagle.

"It's a polecat," Sam smiled. "Not bad."

And Meg almost smiled. Almost.

Maybe this happiness emotion stuff wasn't so bad.

* * *

"Jo and I are going out."

"Where?" Castiel asked.

"No we… we're going out as in dating, Cass."

Dean choked on his mouthful of pie and Sam grinned. "Good for you kiddo," he congratulated his brother, leaning over to pat Dean on the back.

"What's his problem?" Jo glared at Dean as he recovered from his choking fit. Some part of Meg wished Sam had just left Dean to choke.

"Nothing," Dean gasped for breath, grabbing his glass of water. "Just it used to be me, hitting on Jo all the time, even when I sort of knew it wasn't going to come to anything. I wasn't for her, and it's just convenient that she gets a compromise."

"Adam's not a compromise because I didn't want you!" Jo glared daggers at him.

"That's not what I meant!" Dean raised his hands. "I meant Adam's better for you! Congrats you two, okay! I'm really happy for you."

"It's not like we're getting married," Jo laughed, shaking her head at the hapless Winchester.

"We are going to the ball together though," Adam said, and this time he got the expected reaction from his elder brothers. "So who are you going to the ball with?" Adam snapped back at his hysterical brothers who seemed to find the fact he was going to a dance Jo hilarious.

"No one." Dean laughed. "Cass probably."

Sam stopped laughing abruptly and Gabriel spat out his drink. "What?" the two said in sync.

Dean didn't react to them, while dismissing the comment with a wave of his hand. "Not like that. Dude's still a virgin so how is he going to hook a date? So we're going together, right?" he turned to the solemn Hufflepuff.

"Dean informs me it will not be like that den of iniquity he dragged me into previously." Castiel informed them. "I believe it will be safe."

Meg actually looked kind of disappointed. She thought that maybe she could figure out where Cass had learned to kiss that way and try it out again, but since Cass was going with his boyfriend (she totally wished sometimes that they'd just get together because sometimes the sexual tension killed her) "Hey Sam," she opened her mouth.

"No."

"But you don't even know what I was going to say!"

"I do. And no."

"But…"

"No. You rode around inside me for a week." Sam ignored Gabriel's snickers. Jo shuddered at the memory ("My daddy shot your daddy in the head."). "No." Sam said again. "Go with Crowley."

"So Sam," Gabriel lent forwards with a smirk. "Want to go to the ball with me?"

Now it was Dean's turn to spit out his drink. "If you touch my baby brother…"

"Relax," Gabriel drawled, "Just as friends, right? I promise not to kill Dean."

Sam narrowed his eyes.

"Or trap you in TV land."

Cue bitchface XXVI©. She should write a book. Bitchface: Origins, an encyclopedia of Moose expressions.

"No ghosts or alligators or slow dancing aliens… although now you mention it…"

"I've got a date," Sam snapped, "Okay, I can't go with you, I'm already going with someone!"

"Who?" Dean asked him, warily. "Please God don't say Crowley..."

"No!" Sam looked alarmed, "It's this third year... she's a bit... weird... but we got talking and she knows about all these interesting creatures. She knows about stuff we do, except she calls them weird names such as nargles and wrackspurts."

"Fine." Gabriel sighed. "Cass and Dean, I'm being your third wheel!"

"That's not a good thing, you know that," Dean told the archangel mutinously.

"Course it is," Gabriel smiled.

"It adds extra grip, stability and support..." Castiel added and Dean's head hit the table with a loud thump. Meg would have been worried if it wasn't for the fact she was now left with only one option: Crowley.

What did she have to lose? It wasn't as if he could kill her, because God would just bring her back. "Hey, Crowley?"

"What is it whore?" Crowley used the term almost endearingly.

"Want to go to the ball with me?"

For the third time that evening, Dean coughed on a mouthful of food. Crowley ignored him, considering the options. "Sure sweetheart," he smirked at her. "I'll pick you up at seven in the entrance hall."

For a moment Meg was startled by his acceptance, but then she slid into her role, "Sounds lovely," she smirked back at him. "Just please tell me you're not wearing robes…" she winced at the word.

"A suit," Crowley corrected. "I think we all are, although I need to introduce Rocky and Bullwinkle to proper suits and not those monkey fake things they parade around in." Meg observed Dean shift self-consciously.

"Sounds lovely… My colour is purple, so try to match darling." Meg was enjoying this far too much.

They were distracted by Jo's announcement of "Watch out for Zep," as an owl swooped in through the upper windows.

Sam watched as Zeppelin approached, swooping down, brown wings outstretched. "I knew we shouldn't have let Dean name it," Sam muttered as the tawny owl crashed down on the table next to Adam, holding outs its leg with a letter attached.

"What is it?" Castiel asked, looking at Adam as he pulled it open, reading through it.

"Heads up guys," he told them, "Newspaper article apparently isn't too friendly towards us."

Which considering it was written by Rita Skeeter and was mostly about them and their questionable sanity, Meg was grateful for Bobby and Ellen's warning.

Naturally she tore through it, poking holes in the article. "Look!" she pointed so hard she actually stabbed a hole through the paper. "They can't even get our names right. Megan? My name isn't Megan! It's Meg!"

The owl glanced at her, beady eyes scanning the paper. Meg froze, questioning Adam. "Adam, is your owl reading?"

Adam shrugged. "Probably. She's a clever bird."

"Are you sure she's an owl?" Meg asked, frowning.

"Honestly? No. But don't voice it too loud, she knows... things."

Meg wisely shut up. Nobody else seemed to have her excessively overdeveloped survival instinct. She thought this was solely because of her extensive interactions with the Winchester brothers and all the crap that followed them around. She was one of a few who had survived more than five years after being fatefully introduced to Sam and Dean Winchester.

And considering the others included some fools called the GhostFacers, she totally won that round.

* * *

The ball was beautiful. Meg and Crowley managed to keep up the snark the whole evening, being the perfect bickering couple. Dean had dumped Cass to steal Sam's date for a dance. The girl was weird, and she got along with Sam and Dean far too well (the pair made weird friends). The girl was two years younger than them, a wide eyed Ravenclaw called Luna who seemed to believe them about angels and demons, although she kept referring to a Crumple-Horned Snorcrax which they were all pretty sure didn't exist except in her head.

Sam seemed to like her anyway, even if he admitted he wasn't going to date her ("yeah, because all your lays die," Dean had emphasised) and just wanted a friend who wasn't in Team Free Will and still believed their ludicrous tales. Dean had given up trying to teach Castiel to dance after about three songs, stalking back to where she and Sam had been amusing themselves by watching and commenting on how awkward it was for the pair.

"That was truly beautiful," Luna commented, seemingly at ease with the Team. "Your wings looked stunning," she complimented Cass.

If it wasn't for the fact she had spoken about Gabriel's wings earlier, this would have worried them. As it was, Meg just snickered. "You guys looked perfect together," she mocked.

Dean laughed. "Yeah, well you know. Profound bond and all that?"

Meg blinked. "What?"

"Dean and Castiel share a profound bond," Luna said dreamily as Dean, always the perfect gentleman (Meg mentally scoffed) offered her a dance since Sam was still taking a break, "You say he raised you from Perdition?" she asked Dean as he led her away.

"Yeah, he does that," Dean replied as a new song started up. Meg's eyes twitched at the chords of Bad Moon Rising struck up, and sure enough her errant date was over there, handing the score over to the band. When the next song ended up being Smoke on the Water, Meg wondered how much Dean had bribed the demon to switch up the music.

"Sam!" Gabriel whispered, sitting down at their table. "I've got beer!"

Sam grinned, accepting the prize. "How did you manage this?" he asked, taking a sip. "Let me guess – you bribed the elves."

"Of course," the archangel laughed. "Our couples still dancing…" his eyes fell on Meg "Except the Crossroads King and the Hell King Daughter." He corrected. "Did Crowley dump you?"

Meg peered around Gabriel to where Crowley was wheedling money out of some of the foreigners. "Yeah," she sighed dejectedly, "Oh well. We probably would have killed each other soon enough."

"Want a dance?" Surprisingly it was Sam who offered, and she smirked at him.

"Thought you didn't like me?" she asked, accepting.

"I don't. Didn't." he corrected. "But you're not so bad really." And he spun her around. Meg rolled her eyes and slipped into the beat with him. Sam didn't look too bad in a suit (and boy had the teachers thrown fits at that, but they all looked smart, Crowley had done a good job at outfitting them although she'd never admit that).

"Coming from you?" Meg asked, "That's almost a compliment."

Sam scoffed. "From the kid with Azazel's blood to the demon who calls herself his daughter? That's almost too nice to be true." He seemed to realise he was responding to her flirts and spun her around, somehow having co-ordinated with Dean to switch partners, and Meg found herself with the other Winchester while Sam rescued his own date.

"Having fun?" Dean asked her.

"My night just got better," she replied testily.

"Just keep making Crowley jealous and it'll be a blast," Dean confirmed for her, head twisting to where Crowley looked pissed off that the Winchesters had stolen his date.

"It's my life goal to piss him off," Meg confided.

Dean laughed, "I think everyone knows that by now."


	7. Not Here To Perch On Your Shoulder (Castiel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Considering everything they’d been through in the last few years, these quiet, if odd, years of peace were a welcome blessing. And best of all, Cass’ faith had been restored. His father was still there, watching over him.  
> Now it was time to have fun, as Dean would say. SPN7.17AU & HPY1/2

**Chapter 7: Don’t piss off the nerd angels…**

Coming back after the first summer was something of a relief to the Team, more so to the two demons that had been living in deep seated fear of Ellen. Bobby and Ellen had settled down in their new house, and had set up a place which acted pretty much as a combination of Bobby’s old place and the Roadhouse. Need a body buried? Drop it off at Singer’s place. Need some lore on zombies? Harvelle can tell you. They’d made a hunting name for themselves amongst the British hunting community.

The random visits and the ‘hey – do you happen to have a sword forged in dragon fire?’ queries didn’t end just because the kids got home from their boarding school. They’d visited home for the Christmas and Easter break, and the shorter holidays had been manageable.

The summer break began with them, freaking out Bobby and Ellen’s hunting friends when they popped in for help.

“How do you kill a kelpie?” a dark skinned hunter asked, young and wide-eyed.

Dean and Sam simultaneously spat out their drinks, staring wide-eyed at the pair. “Tamara?” Sam asked, and Castiel paused in the book he was reading to look up.

“How do you know my name?” the black woman asked, confused. “Where’s Bobby or Ellen?”

“Where’d ya’ find a kelpie?” Gabriel asked. “Thought those were pretty much extinct…”

“Well one’s been eating children up near the Lake District. I’ve been trying to phone Bobby but he’s not answering.”

Crowley looked a bit guilty. “Uh yeah… Bobby and Ellen went out… to buy a new phone funnily enough…” he laughed. “No idea what happened to the old one…”

“You and Dean stole it to examine the wiring before stealing Bobby’s cell to make it work regardless of EMF and EVP frequencies so that it might work at school.” Castiel said. Crowley glared at him and he wondered if this was one of the points he should have lied (to get what you want).

The woman, Tamara, slumped slightly. “Damn it,” she cursed. “Listen kids… can one of you lot phone Ellen then? She must have a phone…”

“Crowley’s pet hell hound ate it,” Sam sighed. “It’s okay, Cass or Gabe will know how to kill a Kelpie… right guys?”

Gabriel just shrugged. “Hel _lo_ , Trickster! Not a hunter.” he looked puzzled.

“No, just a stuck up archangel,” Jo chimed in, grinning at him.

“Kelpies need to be bridled and then shot with silver.” Dean said, receiving odd glances from his brother. “What? I did a hunt with dad once on one of those horses.”

“Bridled?”

“It refers to the breaking of the kelpie’s spirit.” Castiel elaborated.

“Yeah, we know what it means Cassie,” his brother told him.

Tamara stared at the kids. “I didn’t know Bobby and Ellen had kids.” She said, eventually realising that eight kids hanging out in the kitchen was a bit weird.

“We’re adopted,” Crowley said, and Cass thought he was still a bit huffy about that fact. “They ship us off to boarding school during the year.”

“Okay.” Tamara still looked a bit wary. “Look, I’m just going to wait until Bobby and Ellen get back – mind if I take a seat?”

“Mind the hell hound,” Jo said simply, moving over to let Tamara sit down.

_“What?”_

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Any other hunters appearing during that summer were similarly put off by Bobby and Ellen’s weird kids. (“Kids… man… why did you adopt so many?” “Oh, we believe they were sent by God…” Bobby replied through gritted teeth). The occasional hunter, who spotted Meg or Crowley’s demon eyes, went home with their tail between their legs after the holy water did nothing more than get them wet.

Castiel wondered why they liked the school so much, when as Jo had put it (“I dropped out of college for a reason.”) and eventually decided that they fitted into the weird atmosphere.

Well… they made a good attempt to fit in. Taking a route up to the castle with the carriages and avoiding the boats all together (“Thank you!” “Why is it that you hate planes and boats?” “He has an unhealthy obsession with his car.”) they instead encountered the thestrals again.

“Oh you are beautiful,” Crowley crooned, getting weird looks from both the students who couldn’t see what pulled the carriages and Team Free Will who found the horses creepy. “What?” he snapped. “They’re prettier than the majority of hell put together!”

“You’d know after all those mirrors you break,” Adam said sarcastically, pushing past and climbing into the carriage. Looking alarmed at the youngest Winchester’s sass, Crowley climbed into a different carriage.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Their second year was also the year which heralded the arrival of Harry Potter. According to Adam, he was the hero, but Castiel just saw a small lost boy. He really wasn’t that impressive, even when he lost loads of points for wandering out at night with his friends.

“S’okay kid,” Dean had told him, sitting next to Adam and Harry. “Gabe and I lost twice that many points when we charmed Snape’s robes invisible. He thought they were normal see and went around the whole day in his boxers,” he grinned at the first year’s shocked look.

“But it’s okay for you,” the bushy haired girl moaned. “You’re in Hufflepuff. And Slytherin.”

“And my brother’s in Gryffindor,” Dean rumpled Adam’s hair in what Castiel believed to be an act of affection. “And Jo too, but she still lost points and got detention for sneaking out with Sam and I on my birthday last year.”

“It was a month,” Jo whispered to the shocked Harry, “Of cleaning the corridors and toilets for Filch.” She shuddered. “Then McGonagall took pity on me and let me write out stuff for her leaving Sam and Dean to clean the toilets.”

“What did you do anyway?” Adam asked, shoving Dean sideways into Meg who cuffed him around the ear. “Smuggle a dragon out of the school or something? That’s what they’re saying…” Castiel noted the curled up corner to Adam’s lips. He knew it was true…

Harry coughed and reddened.

“No way,” Dean muttered, “Gold loving virgin stealers.” Castiel thought he heard him say, but that was probably incorrect.

“What?” Harry stared at Dean.

“What?”

Harry narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything.

“Lots of creatures in this school huh,” Jo mused. “Troll in the dungeons, dragon in the groundskeeper’s hut, Cerberus on the third floor corridor…”

“What?”

“What?” Crowley blinked innocently at the three golden trio kids. They’d probably just terrified them for life now.

Beyond the Cerberus on the third floor (Gabriel had discovered it within a day of the ‘anyone who does not wish to die a violent death’ and bemoaned how uninteresting it was.) the first year of the famous ‘story kids’ was very boring and normal.

They had tried to go and hunt down the troll when Quirrel had run in, turban unravelling slightly and tripping him up as he exclaimed, “Troll! In the dungeons!” before sliding over his own feet cutting off the “Just thought you ought to…” and hitting his head on the cold hard flagstones and probably knocking himself out.

“Let’s go.” Dean was up first, with Sam and Jo following after. Castiel realised that you could probably take the hunters away from hunting, but they’d never stop being hunters.

Adam stared after them, as Meg and Gabriel then abandoned him to join him. “Oh come on! Really guys…?”

“All students to return to your common rooms!” a teacher called out.

“But the Slytherin Common Room is in the dungeon!” Crowley shouted at the teacher in question. “Screw this,” he muttered, “Let’s go hunt a troll.”

“What? What! No. Guys… you see a troll you run in the opposite… why do I even bother…?” Adam sighed and he and Cass followed behind. “I’m so not telling you it’s in the girl’s bathroom,” he muttered mutinously.

That was how Team Free Will completely missed the troll in the bathroom, powdering its nose, as Crowley had said, although Castiel didn’t see why a troll would want to powder its nose.

There had been hopes that the three-headed Kerebos would be more fun, but then again it was called ‘Fluffy’ for a reason, Castiel mused.

 “So what did you do?” Meg snorted, “Play it to sleep with your harp?”

“It’s a horn,” Gabriel corrected her, sharing his discovery of the hell guardian, amber eyes narrowed. “And I lost it,” he pouted.

“So what does Cass play?” Dean had asked, curious.

“I don’t.” he said, “I’m a warrior of God. I don’t perch on glowing clouds with my halo and harp.” The corner of his lip tugged up. “That was Gabriel’s job.” His brother let out an enraged squawk.

“I did not!”

“Uh, yeah actually,” Sam sniggered. “And an angel of the lord appeared before her.” Castiel thought he was maybe trying to quote the bible. “Didn’t you tell Mary about her virgin birth?”

For once Gabriel had absolutely nothing to say.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Their first summer holidays had been a mess. The Christmas gifts had been items such as wrapped up hair spray and magazines, but the six week summer was what Dean would call ‘hell on earth’. In comparison their second Christmas actually involved kindly thought out gifts (except Gabriel who somehow thought giving the demons salt was funny, but it was okay, because Meg gave him a stocking of coals and Crowley gave him a stocking of flaming hot coals which set his bed on fire.).

Their second summer was a lot better too. They eventually managed to settle down to some sort of vague routine, which involved not talking to any of the visiting hunters, Sam and Dean going off to kill something and dragging Adam along to teach him the ropes, while Castiel instructed Meg how to play chess and Gabriel and Crowley got very, very drunk. Jo had been dragged into cooking lessons by her mother, and not even Castiel was brave enough to try and rescue her from Ellen’s clutches.

They eventually received their book lists and went shopping at the diagonally alley, which was what Dean called it. They’d split, Gabriel, Crowley and the Winchesters heading for the illegal alley which was a pun on the word nocturnally leaving Jo and Castiel with the book lists.

Heading to the store, Castiel overheard an awed whisper. "Did you know that You-Know-Who is at Flourish and Blotts'?" a young witch gigged to her friend.

Castiel blinked, totally floored by that one. He’d been under the impression that 'You-Know-Who' meant Voldemort, and he didn't think anyone would be happy to have him at a bookstore.

Humans were so weird. The golden haired guy with sparkling teeth was just a prime example of this.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Despite their summer improving, their transport didn’t. Especially when Gabriel once again got them lost and then proceeded to walk straight into the barricade.

“Ow!” he protested, rubbing at his nose. He’d taken the thing at a run as well, and Jo and Dean were struggling to hide their snickers. “This is the right place – I’m sure of it!”

Castiel put his hand on the stone wall. “It’s solid.”

“No shit Sherlock,” Meg scoffed. “See this is why we don’t follow Gabe around. We get late and miss the barricade. Didn’t know they closed it on the hour… sucks to be you if you’re late…”

Adam sighed. “It’s not us… it’s a house elf called Dobby.”

“A house elf. Called Dobby?” They looked at him as if he was mad.

“What?” Adam protested, “Just because I read the books!”

“So what now… Ask the audience…?” Gabriel gestured the busy commuters wandering past, “fifty-fifty?” he flipped a coin, “Or phone a friend?”

“Phone the teachers…” Sam was being sensible, and writing a letter. Castiel thought it was a good idea. “Mind if I borrow Zeppelin?” the vessel of Lucifer asked Adam.

“Go ahead.” Adam let the brown owl out of her cage. Castiel wasn’t exactly sure why the female owl was named Zeppelin, but he suspected Dean had been involved. “Can you find Professor…” he paused, “Which teacher…?”

“Sprout,” Dean and Meg said in chorus. “She doesn’t give us detention.”

“Plus,” Castiel added, “We’re the majority house.”

They made it to school eventually, by taking a system of transport known as ‘floo’ which literally involved travelling through the fire place system. Dean and Adam looked sick at the end of it, while Meg and Sam just looked annoyed in general.

“Go clean yourself off boys,” his nice head of house told them; bustling off, “I’ll see you at the feast.” She tried to act like a caring mother to their group. “And please,” she paused to add. “Try to be a bit more… normal this year?” she left her plea open, like a question, before vanishing.

“Hear that guys?” Dean smirked. “Normal… We can do that right?”

Castiel had a sneaking suspicion that they couldn’t.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

He studied the defence texts extensively. At first he had thought Sam would be with him in memorising them, but it appeared that the middle Winchester couldn’t take much more than two chapters before he and Dean proceeded to turn their copies into notepaper.

Castiel regardless, read the whole thing, and come the new term when their first lesson was a quiz about them, was happy he had.

He was writing down the answers when Dean glanced over. “Dude,” the righteous man whined, “You… you can’t be serious?”

Dean’s own test paper was filled with violent details about hell and demons along with little illustrations. Apparently he and Meg had been planning to write their own book.

“Here,” Dean stole his paper, and scribbled down a few answers. “Answer them like that.”

1- What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favourite colour? _Blue, the colour of his eyes, since he likes staring at himself that much_

2 – What is Gilderoy Lockhart’s life ambition? _To have gay sex with himself_

3 - What is, in your opinion, Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date? _He knows how to spell his own name_

“Must I?” Castiel protested.

In the end Dean stole his whole quiz and did it for him, while Meg, having finished sneakily burning hers into cinders, finished Dean’s extensive notes on white-eyed demons.

Castiel sighed, and he could see the pair’s shoulder’s quivering when the guy was marking the quizzes and came to their work, a few ashy flakes, a detailed and vile description of the pit, some elaborate essay about werewolves (Sam’s contribution) and some smart-aleck answers. Dean should have been called ‘Alec’ with the way he answered back to the teachers.

This was why he didn’t let Dean help him with homework.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Castiel did realise pretty quickly that their new defence teacher was a fraud, although admittedly he only fully lost all hope of a decent teacher when the man strolled up to the front of the room and spun around, swirling his cape in a manner eerily similar to Professor Snape.

Maybe the men practised together. Cass wondered if he could get his trench coat to do that.

“I need a volunteer,” Lockhart called. “To act out one of my scenes...”

Sam and Dean were way too quick to volunteer.

Realising that picking the ‘twins’ wasn’t a good idea, instead Lockhart picked Castiel, sitting quietly next to the pair, “Okay,” he told the class. “So you’re the werewolf.” He gestured at Cass… “And I’m…”

Castiel frowned. “No I’m not.”

“Just for now boy,” the guy grinned, and his teeth were practically blinding. “Come on now. Attack me… lunge towards me…” he encouraged his student, striking what Castiel thought should have been a heroic pose, placing his hands on his hips and puffing out his chest. “Try to incapacitate me.”

Castiel examined the man for a moment, and after coming to the conclusion that yes, the man wanted him to attack him, kicked the man in the shin.

It was entirely not his fault when the man crumpled to the ground, hitting his way on a desk on the way down giving himself a concussion and ended up spending the next week in the hospital. Dean gave Cass his pie for a week, which meant despite hurting the poor guy, it must have been a good thing.

This guy was probably one of Dean’s ‘too idiotic to live people’ he complained about regularly.

When Lockhart recovered enough to reteach their lesson, he let Dean and Sam act out one of his scenes. “One of you is… well…me” he grinned, “And the other is the banshee. Now I approached the banshee slowly and…”

“So you’re the banshee,” Dean interrupted, looking at Sam.

“No way jerk,” Sam snapped.

“Bitch,” Dean responded. “Bring it.”

Castiel watched with interest as the pair begun to spar. To the rest of the group it must have looked like they were hurting each other in a violent fight, but he could see them pulling their punches.

Eventually Dean brought Sam to the floor, rolling on top of him. “Easy tiger,” he laughed, “Déjà vu much.”

And Sam grinned, flipping them over. “Getting rusty there kiddo,” he mocked his brother, laughing before pulling off Dean, helping his brother up.

“Still a little bitch,” Dean teased Sam.

The vessel of Lucifer pulled a face, moving his hands to form a ‘W’ as he sat back down. The vessel of Michael laughed and slumped in next to Cass, still grinning, far happier than Castiel had ever seen him before.

The class gaped at them.

Castiel wondered if this was going to be another of those incidents that got the school staring at them for months on end.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“I’ve worked it out!” Sam dropped a large tomb on the table which sent a cloud of dust into the air. It caught in Castiel’s throat and he coughed, leaning away from the ancient book.

“Worked what out?” Crowley looked mildly interested.

“The thing petrifying people,” Sam said with a smirk.

“It’s a basilisk!” Jo announced, sliding into a seat and stealing Sam’s thunder. She received an annoyed glare from the Winchester.

Adam cleared his throat. “I… I know,” he said, trying not to look exasperated. “Haven’t we been over this? You guys agreed not to interfere! And I for one do not want to go up against a giant snake!”

“It says here,” Jo pointed to a line of text, “That the crow of a rooster kills it.”

“And all the school’s roosters were killed,” Castiel realised.

“Oh,” Dean blinked, _“Oh…_ so… uh… Adam… when does the Dream Team gank this thing?”

Adam raised one eyebrow. “Sometime in the summer… It’s always in the summer. And usually around exams...”

“Do they get cancelled again?” Dean was easily distracted.

“Let me guess,” Crowley sighed, “You want me to find a rooster.”

“Thanks Red-eyes,” Dean smiled at the demon, who looked startled, as if he had made the offer not expecting them to actually request it. The nickname too was something new which had the King of the Crossroads examining Dean with a look which made Castiel uncomfortable.

By the time May rolled around, they had a small collection of roosters, courtesy of the Hell King.

“How many did you get?”

Crowley shrugged. “I got spare.”

Harry and Ron, running to a bathroom on the second floor and dragging a startled Lockhart with them, were startled to find Team Free Will there lounging around with a rooster tucked under Castiel’s arms. The angel was counselling it on its task ahead. Meg kept making jokes about it which to the others had alternative connotations.

“Hey Dean! Do you want to hold Cassie’s…?” she was interrupted by the pounding arrival of the second years.

Feathers littered the corridor, and Gabriel had one in his hair. “There you are!” he said brightly, stealing Castiel’s rooster much to his little brother’s annoyance and stuffing it in Ron’s arms. “Take that with you. It might help.”

He sauntered off with a wink and Dean offered the Gryffindors and teacher a helpless shrug. “Good luck.” He said, before leaving with the rest of them.

Killing the basilisk with a rooster was much easier than some big dramatic battle which would have probably ended with Harry being stabbed by a fang. The snake got rooster-ised and the diary got sword-ed. And when Dumbledore asked… “And why exactly did you have a rooster?”

Harry shrugged and said, “Gabriel Novak and his friends gave it to me.” as if that explained everything

And maybe it did.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Castiel had known about the location of the kitchen since the prefect had mentioned it in the first year, but it had obviously been one of the points which had gone over Dean’s head. Now however the pair were on a mission to find it, having dumped Meg with Gabriel (it was a sure fire recipe for disaster, but Dean was hoping to find some caffeine beverages to bring back to them).

There had been multiple complaints from Dean, who had finally gone a day too many without a coffee in the morning. It wasn’t served at breakfast, and Cass thought it was wise considering the effect caffeine would have on a school of magical kids.

“I don’t see it.” Dean paused outside a painting of a fruit bowl, sighing. “The prefect said it was down here, but we’ve been this way three times already.”

Castiel looked around, the corridor relatively deserted, with black robes visible at the far end where it led to their basement common room. “Should we ask?” he queried.

“Pah,” Dean scoffed, “We can find it ourselves without any of those pansies.” He spun around, blinking at the fruit bowl. “Kitchen, here I come!”

Twenty minutes later, and bearing directions, they once again arrived outside the fruit bowl picture. This time Cass tentatively reached up, running his fingers over the green pear. The fruit trembled, as if laughing and a door handle materialised on the painting.

Dean stared at it in annoyance. “What the f***?” he snapped. “Seriously..? You have to tickle the freaking pear?”

The angel knew it was best to ignore Dean when he was like this and so he pushed open the door and entered the kitchen. It was a large, low ceiling room filled with bustling…

“Is that Gollum?” Dean asked, and Castiel frowned at the reference. Gabriel had forced a movie marathon last summer, which basically involved them camping in their nice house’s living room with the TV fully playing something and they slept, ate and watched for a week straight before Ellen turfed them outside. The Lord of the Rings had been one of the movies, and it was a relief to know where some of the references came from.

“I believe it’s a House Elf.” Castiel replied.

One of the elves heard him, ears twitching as it spun towards the pair. “Oh! Fiddle is sorry sirs he was not noticing you there! Can Fiddle get sirs anything?”

“Coffee,” Dean said in a beat, “Black, no sugar, fresh coffee. Thanks.”

“No need to be thanking Fiddle!” the elf looked alarmed, “Fiddle is just doing his job.”

“You do an excellent one,” Dean assured the elf, looking slightly alarmed, “The pie is amazing,” he assured.

Castiel thought that just made things worse, as the elf proceeded to tear up. “Fiddle be fetching your drink now sir.” He sniffed, before scuttling off.

Dean and Cass took a seat. “Weird critter,” Dean muttered.

“They are born to serve,” Castiel observed. “Their magic is such that they feed off the bond to their masters.”

Dean jumped alarmed when Fiddle reappeared practically under his nose with a cup of coffee. “Here you go sir!” the elf squeaked, seemingly recovered. “Can I be getting you anything else?”

Sniffing the coffee, Dean nodded. “Can you take some of this up in a pot to…? Where _are_ the others?”

“To Gabriel Novak and his friends sitting on the end of the Ravenclaw table,” Cass instructed. “Thank you.”

“Dibby..!” Fiddle called and another elf appeared. She listened intently to the instructions before vanishing away with a “Be happy to help sirs!”

“I’m Dean Winchester and this is Cass… Castiel Novak,” Dean didn’t seem to think much of Castiel’s human name. “Thanks a lot for the coffee… I didn’t think you’d have it, since it’s never around at meals.”

“The teachers request it,” Fiddle said with wide eyes. “The headmaster forbids the students from having it.” He paused, shaking. “Oh no... Fiddle is doing a bad thing.”

Dibby chose that moment to reappear, and Dean started. Castiel resolved to give the elves a lesson in personal space, as Dean’s coffee sloshed free, splashing onto his shirt.

“Son of a –“ Dean paused, dropping his coffee cup on the table and trying to ignore the panicky elves. “It’s okay,” he told them, pulling of his shirt and revealing the t-shirt underneath. One of the things Cass had learned about Dean was that he wore a lot of layers. “Can you clean this?”

The elves nodded and Dean passed over the stained shirt to them. Castiel cracked a small smile as Dean eyed his almost empty cup.

“Would you like some more?” Dibby popped up again, and once again Dean jumped.

“Sure,” he managed a grimace. “And can you show up a metre away? Wearing bells or something… You’re worse than Cass and personal space.”

“Sorry Masters,” Dibby apologised and vanished for coffee.

Castiel frowned. “Why has her address changed from ‘sirs’ to ‘masters’?” he asked.

“Hell if I know.” Dean shrugged and when the fresh coffee appeared he asked. “You can just call us Dean and Cass y’know.”

“No!” Dibby shook her head. “Dibby cannot be doing that! Masters gave us clothes! Dibby and Fiddle serve new Masters now!” and she promptly vanished to go and assumedly clean Dean’s shirt.

There was an awkward pause between the angel and human.

“So…” Cass began. “It appears that we have hired two elves to work for us.”

“By giving them my shirt..?” Dean asked, “What’s up with that?”

“Clothes are a sign of work!” Fiddle re-appeared a metre away. Castiel considered that efficiency as the clean and dry shirt was handed over neatly pressed. “Work is offered by Masters and Dibby and Fiddle accepted! We work for new Masters now!”

“But you must clean clothes all the time,” Dean protested, “What about that smelly pair of socks I hid in Sam’s duffel and they arrived back perfectly clean and folded? Why didn’t that encourage you to change Masters?”

“Dibby and Fiddle be free working elves!” Dibby announced. “We work for Hogwarts for as long as we want, and nows we want to works for you!”

“What?” Dean blinked.

“Master gives us clothes and be nice masters, so Fiddle and Dibby be working for you now!” Fiddle squeaked.

“We’re telling everyone you adopted them,” Dean said, trying to ignore the “Would Masters require anything else?” from the two elves. “That you recruited them to help caffeinate our friends. Got it?”

Castiel barely managed to hide the smile as he nodded. “Of course Dean,” he agreed. “Because I’m the one who goes around saving pathetic life forms all the time...”

The Winchester’s eyelid twitched. “Are you calling me pathetic?” he asked, indignant.

“Did I mention your name?” Castiel asked innocently.

Dean continued to eye him warily for a moment. “You’ve been hanging out with Gabriel for too long.” He sighed. “He’s rubbed off on you.”

“Gabriel is a bad influence,” Cass nodded in agreement. “Heaven help us all.”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“So…”

Castiel was with Gabriel the day the red-headed twins ambushed his brother.

Naturally

“Novak...”

“And Novak...”

“Although we just want words with…”

“A Mr Gabriel..?”

“They call me Loki,” Gabriel grinned impudently at the pranksters. Up ahead Cass saw his safety in Dean, Meg and Crowley get further and further away, and so he resigned himself to the conversation.

“What do you want?” he asked the pair.

“To talk to your brother,” Fred Weasley smirked. “About flowers and rainbows and all things nice…”

“You’ve been pranking Snape.” George said with a dangerous smile. “You’re the one who put itching powder in his robes last week.”

“Actually,” Gabriel remarked, “That was Dean.”

“You provided him with shampoo and conditioner which made his hair look like a male model’s for a month.”

“Crowley.”

“You gave his cauldrons legs so that they wandered all over the school.”

“Adam.”

“You put superglue on him, sticking him to anything and everything he touched for the day.”

“Now that one was actually Dean...”

“It’s impressive,” George (Castiel thought) said with a flourish. “Want to team up?”

The Trickster laughed. “With you..? No thanks.”

“I’m offended,” Fred put his hands over his heart. “Are we not good enough for you?”

The archangel smirked. “Oh you are. You pass Trickster training 101 without a single lesson. Now go out into the world and wreak havoc boys!”

“Oh we will.” George promised. “But you and your crazy group of friends are just as available as any other student.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Gabriel challenged. “Now if you’d excuse us… we have Transfiguration to get to. See you later boys.”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Masters Winchesters! Dibby is happy to be seeing you again! Isee there anything Masters can be wanting Dibby to do-sy?”

Gabriel and Sam had spent ages teaching the house elves to talk like Jar Jar Binks. Castiel knew the reference now and had rolled his eyes at the two of them. Dean seemed to find it annoying but just plastered a grin and opened his mouth.

He didn’t even have to say anything when a beer and pie appeared in front of him. “Dibby be knowing what Dean Master is wanting,” the happy elf squeaked. “Is thisee to sirs liking..?”

“Dibby,” Dean flicked the cap off his beer. “You are awesome.”

“Help you we do,” Fiddle now spoke like Yoda (Adam’s involvement) and was offering Castiel a sandwich which he politely declined.

“So?” Gabriel smirked, gesturing towards the house elves. “What do you…?” Dean shut him up by stuffing his mouth with cake, chocolate with cream and chocolate flakes. He’d learned that this was the only sure-fire way of shutting Gabriel up. Any other method could usually be undone, but a cake would never go to waste with the candy loving Trickster, which meant he’d have to eat his way free. It gave them five minutes of archangel free conversation whenever Gabriel got too annoying.

They were currently using the kitchen as a base to meet, since the teachers were getting tired of kicking them out of one of the four common rooms or a deserted classroom.

“Jo’s found a place to meet,” Castiel informed his currently incapacitated brother. “She’s just trying to talk Crowley out of a detention with Lockhart.”

“What did he do now?” Adam sighed. “Crowley I mean. Lockhart’s an idiot.”

And Castiel agreed there. “Crowley was practising a vanishing spell and he hit Lockhart on the head.”

Dean frowned. “So he vanished the guy’s head?”

“No. Just the hair.”

Taking a sip of his beer Dean laughed. “Okay, okay – not bad, I’ll give him that one.”

Meg slipped in, carrying a very large and heavy book, dropping it in front of Sam. “Here,” she gestured at the tomb. “I know God on High said he’d deal with the Levi’s for you, but in case he doesn’t, or in case they come back, A Guide To Battling Creatures From The Dark Depths Of Purgatory.”

Sam practically threw himself on the book, looking through this. “How did you get this?” he asked. “I’ve been through the library at least three times.”

“Not the restricted section you haven’t,” Meg smirked. “I got that fool Lockhart to sign me a slip so I could get in. He didn’t even look at it twice.”

“Get your hands off me!” Crowley protested, as Jo dragged him into the kitchen, the portrait swinging open.

Dibby almost immediately popped up with scotch for him. “I like these elves of yours Cassie,” Crowley accepted the drink.

“So come on then,” Dean asked Jo. “Spill,” he prompted.

“I’ve found a room we can meet in!”

“Yeah, we know that,” Meg rolled her eyes. “What’s so special about it?”

“It turns into whatever you need it to be. I was walking past thinking of the Roadhouse and then I spotted the door. Inside it looked exactly like the bar!”

Sam was still engrossed in his book, but now he paused, looking up. “Really?” he asked. “Down to the last detail..?”

“Down to the last detail…” Jo promised. “Including yours and Dean’s initials you carved into the bar when you thought Mom wasn’t watching.”

The brothers exchanged a guilty look, and Castiel knew they had this thing about leaving their name carved into places they’d been. All across America there was a trail of S.W.D.W. and the two brothers were the culprits.

“Of course,” Adam’s eyes were wide, “Why didn’t I think of that! The Room of Requirement…”

“Nerd,” Dean coughed.

“So much for reading the books if you don’t remember them, idiot,” Jo rolled her eyes. “Anyway – it’s seventh floor, on that corridor that loops around the Quad.”

Gabriel finally managed to finish his slice of cake. “Great. So let’s go then!”

They took the main staircase, which wound its way up through the castle. The Gryffindor tower was nearby, and below was a courtyard which led onto the viaduct. Jo led them along to a blank section of wall and after checking that the coast was clear gestured at it. “Here we are,” she said smugly.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Crowley stared dubiously at the blank section of wall. Jo was pacing in front of it, back and forth and back again when the wall rippled, and a door materialised through the stone work.

Shooting a triumphant look at the demon, Jo pushed her way into the room, and the rest followed.

“It’s…” Sam stopped, looking around at the place. It looked like a bar of sorts, but Castiel knew from previous conversations that this was the Roadhouse, which had been run by the Harvelles until it was burnt to the ground by demons. “I never thought I’d see this place again.” Sam says instead. “While I was alive I mean… since Ash had quite a nice Heaven version.”

“Looks great doesn’t it?” Jo swung herself into a seat. “Sorry there’s no booze.”

“There’s no pie either,” Dean muttered mutinously, moving over to the pool table.

“It’s perfect,” Adam breathed, looking around. “Nice job Jo!”

“Thanks,” Jo grinned at them, “I try.”

Castiel looked around the room, twisted into the form of Jo’s old home and thought that maybe, even if only imitating it, they had found themselves a home in the strange castle, which in some respects, was weirder than they were.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“I swear… if that bumbling idiot shows up I’m going back to Hell.”

“You’re not going back to Hell.” Castiel was confused by his best friend’s words.

“I will be after I strangle him to death,” Dean promised darkly. “Why are we even here? It’s not like we need to know how to point sticks at people.”

“Professor Flitwick was once a champion dueller,” Cass informed the hunter. “It might be him teaching us something useful…” his eyes fell on the golden haired man who had appeared. “Or not…” he noted.

Sam surreptitiously moved in his brother’s path to the golden git. “Next time I say we stay in the library, we stay in the library.” Sam promised Dean.

Meg snorted. “Yeah, because looking up crap on Leviathans is so much better than this.” Her tone was scornful, and Cass thought she was probably being sarcastic. Despite God’s promise to kill the Levi’s for them, Sam still searched extensively through the library books. Meg had eventually decided there was no method to kill the monsters, since her great big book on all creatures Purgatory hadn’t even mentioned them, but Crowley had uncovered a book which instructed them how to ward against them. Castiel wasn’t quite sure where the King of the Crossroads had obtained it, since it definitely wasn’t a library book, but then out of all of them Crowley was most likely to do something illegal.

They had kept the book for ages before a teacher noticed and confiscated it, on the grounds of it being “too dark”. Team Free Will was totally innocent when Dumbledore promptly misplaced his entire collection of lemon drops.

“We are out of here,” Meg grumbled as Lockhart began some sort of weird dance up on the stage.

“No way!” Gabriel crowed, “This is too fun!” and as if proving his point Lockhart went flying.

The next few minutes were manic as the students were paired off to duel each other. Snape had narrowed his eyes at them, before snapping, “Winchester and McLeod, Winchester and Winchester, Harvelle and Novak, Novak and Masters.” He strolled off, without bothering to elaborate which brother he was referring too.

Unfortunately for Dean, Sam grabbed Adam and dragged him to a free space, leaving the hunter with Crowley who sneered at the Michael Sword. “Don’t expect me to go easy on you princess.”

“I own a demon killing knife.” Dean reminded him, stalking after the demon.

Gabriel considered his options before leaving the other demon for Cass to deal with. Meg sighed and looked at him. “So I guess it’s just you and me then Clarence.”

“The teachers weren’t very helpful,” Cass noted as he took position.

“Amusing though,” Meg laughed, spinning her wand before without warning sending a spell off towards him.

Castiel side-stepped it barely thinking about it, about to send a spell back when Dean came barrelling over from where he and Crowley had been shooting pretty purple and red lights at each other. “Sorry,” Dean muttered, ducking under a red light which hit another student, revealing itself to be a splash of red paint.

“Are you two… did you two start a paintball fight?” Sam asked, as Dean’s purple spell of paint hit the wall. He and Adam had stopped their own battle to watch.

“Maybe,” Crowley shrugged, ducking under another purple beam. “He didn’t trust me throwing spells at him so we agreed to use this paint-ball spell Adam found.”

“NOT TO HIT ME WITH!” Adam shouted, over from where Dean had successfully missed his target and instead hit his youngest brother in the shoulder. Adam glared at Dean, rubbing at his ‘war wound’.

“Is this now something we are required to do?” Castiel asked, ignoring the way Dean ducked behind him, using his as a shield from red spells sent by Crowley.

“No!” Sam shook his head, “No. Just stand there and be good Cass.” Grinning he raised his hawthorn wand, subtly aiming it at his brother.

Dean yelped as a splash of green paint hit him on his neck. “Not fair man,” he ground out.

“Guys…” Castiel glanced around, “Everyone is staring at us.”

“It was his fault!” Crowley and Dean pointed at the other. Sam rolled his eyes.

“Let’s just…” Adam shook his head. “You know what, never mind. Come on guys. We’ll go finish this out in the grounds.”

“No need young sir!” Lockhart had strolled over to them. “We could use some volunteers to show this lot how it’s done and you were all doing so well!” He rested his arms on Sam and Adam’s shoulders and the pair looked distinctly uncomfortable. Crowley snickered, finding their embarrassment amusing.

“Sam and Dean can do it,” Adam slipped out from the arm circling his shoulder.

“Sure!” The pair looked all too happy about it, exchanging glances which Cass realised that was a bad sign.

“Not you Winchester.” Snape growled at the twins, “Or Novak. Or any of your little group…” he added as Gabriel, Meg and Jo re-joined them.

“Oh I don’t know,” Lockhart flashed his teeth again. Castiel wondered if that was healthy, having sparkling teeth. Dumbledore’s eyes sparkled too… maybe there was a spell? “Those two are quite good at physical combat. How about a little demonstration before we pull out our wands.”

Snape’s glare was positively murderous as Lockhart beckoned to the brothers to jump up on stage.

“Do you think he’s serious?” Dean asked Sam.

Castiel paused to consider the question, before examining Lockhart. He did look pretty serious about it.

So did Snape when Sam and Dean began trying to (for all appearances) throttle the life out of each other, completely disregarding their magical sticks in favour of punches and kicks.

“No demon blood now Sammy,” Dean laughed, eyes glinting with adrenaline as Sam lunged. The taunt worked as the younger brother tried to punch Dean in the stomach, but his brother simply caught the arm and swung it around. Sam kicked backwards with a leg to Dean’s shin.

“No running off to Michael,” he spat back.

“They’re getting really into this,” Meg observed, “Should we be breaking this up?”

“Like you’re one to talk,” Dean’s lip curled mockingly. “Like you ran away to Stanford? Like you ran off with Ruby? You’re the one who keeps leaving Sam, not me.”

Sam punched him in the face.

“Maybe it’s like anger management,” Castiel reasoned. “It’s a way of expressing their emotions in a healthy manner.”

“That doesn’t look healthy,” Gabriel whispered. “Did someone hit them with an anger charm or something?”

Sam tried to do the same again but Dean caught and twisted, and suddenly they were exchanging hand to hand blows. “I’m sorry,” Sam sneered, “I forgot you liked to have somebody to attach to. That you need someone around so you can follow their orders like a good little dog.” His breath was lost as Dean slammed a fist into his jaw. Cracking his neck Sam stalked around his brother, looking like a hungry predator. “You were Dad’s _good little soldier_. Until he left you…. people keep leaving you Dean. Haven’t you ever thought, Dean, that maybe people leave you for a reason? _Mom_ left you. _Dad_ left you. I was only following example. My heaven doesn’t have you in it.” He shrugged.

“Funny isn’t it?” Dean scoffed, “That your heaven is my hell. Well that amulet was your heaven, and now it’s sitting in a landfill somewhere. Didn’t that _hurt?_ ”

“Then… and then…” Sam ignored him, “Then you find _Alistair_ , to crawl to on your belly begging to pick up that knife. You bow to the angels, and you bowed to him.” The vessel of Lucifer spread his hands out to each side. “I might have broken the last seal but _you_ … you broke the first. You started it all, I only finished it.”

“So what do you think that justifies it?” Dean laughed eyes hard. “You don’t get a free pass Sam, just because of what I did. I _know_ what I did. I ripped those souls up and I _liked_ it. If I was back there I’d probably do it again. You know what the difference is Sam, between us? I know that’s wrong. You… you thinks it’s _right._ That drinking demon blood is the way to go about saving world. You think that trusting a demon is better than trusting your own brother! You keep making decisions based on what you want to do. You want to jump in the cage. You want to kill Lilith. You want to f*** a demon while your brother rots in Hell.”

“Shut up,” Sam snapped “Like you have a right to blame me for that! You’re the one who made that deal; you’re the one who is so _screwed in the head_ that you’d rather burn in _hell_ than let somebody go.”

“You’re talking to me about letting stuff go? Because you’re great at that, aren’t Sam? You still have that _freaky_ -ass voicemail on your phone from the angels, just to reminding you how you’re a _monster_ and a _freak_ , manipulated and strung along just to be Lucifer’s perfect little pet. None of its your fault of course, it’s my fault for making the deal, it’s Ruby’s fault for the blood… you just can’t admit that you’re wrong can you?”

Gabriel swore quietly. “Should we break it up now?” he asked.

“Too entertaining,” Crowley mused. Jo hit him.

“Of course we stop it… have you any idea how pissed off they’ll be if we don’t?” she was pushing through the crowd watching silently, towards the stage. Castiel followed her as the pair dropped the taunts to throw punches once again in some bastardised martial arts moves.

As Castiel reached the stage, Sam succeeded in slamming his brother against the wall, Dean’s head hitting the stone with a crack which made Jo wince. Castiel moved forwards, but Dean was quicker, somehow slipping the chokehold and landing a blow which had Sam’s head snapping backwards as he fell to his knees. Dean turned his head, spitting blood to one side.

Sam was laughing, a bruise forming along his jaw line. “This shouldn’t be so easy,” he admitted to his brother.

Jo pulled up. “What?” she asked blinking as Dean sighed, offering a hand to the fallen teen and pulling his little brother to his feet.

“You really shot me a new one Sammy,” Dean winced, still spitting out blood. “Gee the counselling sessions that we’d need…”

“We had them going, though…” Sam was still grinning despite his slightly puffed up face.

“That was not funny,” Jo snapped at them. “Not one bit!”

“Anger management?” Castiel asked them.

Dean smiled, a bit bloodily, “Yeah Cass, something like that.”

“Let’s go!” Sam limped awkwardly off the stage, “Before Snape kills us.”

“You two masochistic bastards..!” Jo punched them, making sure to hit already existing bruises. “Did you just want an opportunity to beat each other up?”

Sam shrugged. “Yeah, without the threat of the Apocalypse or demons or Leviathans… we kind of did.”

The other students were giving them a wide berth. “Let’s get out of here,” Jo muttered, changing course from going back to the others and instead heading to the doors as Lockhart hurriedly called Potter and Malfoy up to the stage as a distraction. Castiel thought that was pretty clever of him.

Sam and Dean were forced to spend the rest of the week hiding out in the Room of Requirement, because the teachers were searching like hounds for them about ‘counselling’.

“You’re prank totally sucked,” Gabriel had announced to them. “Next time you want to beat each other up do it in private.”

The pair at least had the decency to look sheepish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Castiel is hard to write, but I hope I did okay. I'm also sorry for the bit at the end. I was going to work in some sort of anger!spell, but that would have just made things awkward, so instead it turned into an anger management therapy session of sorts. Sam and Dean have a lot to sort out.  
> Thanks for reading as always! Hope you enjoyed it!


	8. Don't Worry About The Winchesters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wizards were stupid, Crowley decided. There was a reason no crossroads demons would ever deal with them after all. They were however, a brilliant community to trick, slander and steal his way through to get exactly what he wanted, just like always.

**Hello Boys (That’s My Line)**

Crowley was of the impression that of the entire collective human population, the community of magical fairy blessed people were by far those with the lowest IQ. Logic didn’t seem to exist in their dictionary.

Magic itself defied logic, but that wasn’t an excuse for them to completely forget about it. Demons defied logic too and sometimes there was just no reasonable explanation to be found. Crowley however, liked logic, and partially due to the fact that a lot of demons lacked it (because looking for devil’s traps under rugs and on the ceiling should be in their nature by now) it was how he had got to the top of the ladder with so little competition.

Adam had noted that Crowley’s opinion of the wizarding world was based on the quality of the deals he could make with them. Crowley thought that the youngest pest was far too observant for his own good.

“You tried to… sell him his soul… for fire whiskey…” Gabriel puzzled over it one evening when they had retired to their own common room. “He already owns his soul though,” the archangel noted, and sometimes the Hell King forgot he was talking to an angel and not a three year old kid.

“It was a top notch deal,” Crowley huffed, “I let him keep his soul if he gives me alcohol.”

Gabriel nodded, “Okaaaay,” he said, cheerily, currently playing with a crystal ball he had probably stolen from Trelawny. Crowley was so glad they’d quit those lessons after the whole fortune cookie deal. “Whatever floats your boat provided you don’t go down with them,” the archangel shrugged. “Although a hint of advice... Maybe next time you should offer him something more.” Spotting Crowley’s expression he added, “Humans are so greedy you know?”

Crowley hadn’t considered that. And when his next deal with the guy gained him the fire whiskey for some shiny silver coins with a funny name, he realised that he might have to change his tactic. Especially considering the weird silver meant he basically paid this kid for the drink. Magicals obviously had no concept of a deal. There was a reason the crossroads demons never traded with them.

So Gabriel helped him to set up a black market ring instead.

“Why is it…?” Jo asked him sometime into their fourth year, “That every time I ask someone for information or an object of value they tell me to go to you?”

“They know who the top salesman in town is sweetheart,” Crowley grinned, “The crossroads were a heathen rabble compared to these fine and mighty citizens.”

“You haven’t been making deals,” Clarence looked alarmed. The red-eyes mentally notes to stop picking up the black-eyed bitch’s nickname for the Winchester’s pet angel. Or was it the other way around… he really couldn’t tell anymore.

“Why do I get the feeling that nobody trusts me?” Crowley asked rhetorically.

Castiel answered anyway. “Because you’re a demon...”

“He trades stuff around the school,” Adam told them, “He gets the Weasley twins to give him stuff for money and he then trades it around for whatever he wants and makes even more money.”

“We can’t take you anywhere,” Dean sighed. “It’s like Gabriel and Christmas carols last year.”

There was an awkward silence as everyone proceeded to try and forget about that incident.

Then: “Wait, are you telling me you set up a black market underground in a school?” Jo whispered frantically. “You _so_ lied to me when you said you couldn’t find me a decent bronze blade!”

“Maybe,” Crowley shrugged. “Uh… sorry..?”

“What do you need a bronze blade for anyway?” Meg asked.

“Wait…” Sam paused in his elaborately decorated salad eating. “Didn’t you drop a bronze blade into your potion and melted into this twisted sculpture which you pawned off for a pack of Craig scotch?”

There was a brief pause, and Crowley briefly considered that if looks could kill, Jo would have just stabbed him with her eyes. “I can get you another one,” he said hurriedly.

“You better,” was all the blonde said, before giving him the cold shoulder. The Hell King slumped – he had dodged a bullet there. There had been a few instances where his dealing ring had been almost wrecked. One of them had been with a talking diary in his third year that he had fished out of a flooded bathroom. Not that he was wandering around Girl’s bathrooms or anything, but Gabriel had taken to hanging out there to chat up the dead ghost and Crowley had been dragged along.

The diary had proceeded to talk back to him, write up to the point ‘Tom’ seemed to realise that Crowley wasn’t entirely human and that his soul couldn’t be used in any weird hoodoo and so stopped talking to him. Disgusted, Crowley had thrown it right back into the bathroom, scoring a goal straight through moaning ghost’s head.

The other incident occurred later that year, where he was sneaking about one night and almost ran straight into several teachers and a fat man who looked suspiciously like the minister for magic. It was bad enough as it was, sneaking about with the soul-sucking monsters about who didn’t seem to care if they got a shining pure white soul (‘Here - take the righteous man’s soul – not mine!’) or a black demonic smoke cloud soul, but now with teachers about…

That of course left him to tell Gabriel that he was sorry, but Crowley wasn’t going to be sneaking about at night to make your map of the castle, go make your own. The archangel seemed pissed, although the Hell King wasn’t sure if that was because Dean and Sam had been stalking a werewolf in the forest (the pair seemed to treat the place like a backyard sometimes) and Gabriel had missed the moment the pair got saved by unicorns or because Gabriel couldn’t stalk Professor Snape around day and night.

There was at least one successful item gained from the venture.

“What is that?” Castiel asked, reaching out a hand to poke at the golden hourglass.

“Oh no.” Adam looked like he wanted to hit his head against the wall. “Who in their right mind gave you that?”

“Who did you steal it from, more likely,” Dean muttered, right as always as Crowley pulled the golden time piece away from curious angel hands.

“More importantly… what does it do?” Gabriel asked, seemingly enraptured by the shiny gold metal.

“Get your own,” Crowley batted away the pair of fascinated angels. The pair were just like curious birds sometimes, honestly… “It’s a time turner. It means I can travel in time if I turn it around. It goes back up to twenty-four hours.”

“Unless you sit there and spin it 8760 times, in which case you can go back a year,” Adam chimed in. Crowley wasn’t sure whether he was more impressed that the kid could multiply that fast, or that the blonde Winchester was actually considering sitting there and spinning a little gold hour glass for almost 9000 rotations.

“Did you steal this from a teacher?” Castiel asked him gravely. Then again the angel always sounded grave.

“Clarence,” Meg chided, eyes gleaming as she watched the swinging golden metal. Crowley clutched it a little tighter. “What did I tell you? It’s called liberating. Not stealing. Liberating.”

“What have you been teaching him?” Dean looked alarmed that his pet angel was being led astray. Meg and Dean promptly started arguing about Castiel’s welfare with the bemused brunette sitting between them.

“You could use it for extra studying,” Sam mused. “But I’ve heard you can’t change events. Otherwise it…”

“Messes things up,” Jo puts it in a polite way. “Crowley what are you going to do with that?”

“Sell it,” it was so obvious he wondered why they hadn’t seen it coming. “And not to these kids either… that nice little alley in London….”

“Diagon?” Jo frowned.

“Knockturn,” Sam sighed. “Yeah, sure, just share some cash with us.”

“This is my business. Get your own.”

“We’ll just hire Sam out to do homework,” Meg shrugged, ignoring the Moose’s alarmed expression because yes, Dean probably would agree to go along with something like that.

**

“No.”

“But Dean… just think about the culture we can experience.”

“No.”

“A chance to interact with magicals from different countries…”

“No.”

“The pretty French girls…”

“N… Wait… what?”

Crowley sniggered. “You look like a prepubescent teen sweetheart,” he told the fourteen year old Dean. “No girls are going to be chasing after you.”

“Does this mean we can go?” Sam looked hopeful. “Because I’ve got a lot of other decent arguments which are bound to win against anything you can come up with.”

“Fine,” Dean shrugged. “We fork over some pretty golden coins and go and watch people fly around on wooden sticks.”

“It’s not like we don’t have enough money,” Gabriel shrugged, “Why not?”

It was true in a way, Crowley mused. They’d been left a key to a vault with a lot of metal coins in there. He’d tried to sell the gold to a jeweller, but they didn’t recognise the metal – it was probably something stupid like dwarves gold.

As it was, he had a secret way to make money. Stretching, Crowley let his arm rest on the baby squirrel’s shoulders. “Hey Adam,” he said, grinning as the kid shifted uncomfortably. Adam was even smaller than Sam had been at this age. “Remind me again who to bet on for the win.”

**

“Did we have to get seats so high up?” Surprisingly it was Adam who asked, and not Dean. Said Winchester in question was currently trying to forget his position by stuffing himself with some food in a disgusting display of manners. Crowley turned away, disgusted.

The archangel was flicking through paper tabs, keeping records of their bets. “How many..?” Crowley asked him.

A whistle, “Well we’re going to be a lot richer after tonight.”

“Did you bet with Ludo Bagaman?” Adam asked. “I told you not to bet with that guy.”

A loud cheer rang out from the crowd and Dean almost fell out his seat. Castiel was playing with a pair of weird binoculars gazing around with fascination at people in the stands. Crowley reached out with a finger and shifted the angel’s gaze to some appearing leprechauns and away from being creepy and stalker-ish to the game.

“Got any salt?” Jo looked eager, and Crowley wondered if the whole reason they were here was because of her love for the game. Well… that and his gambling money making habits that he’d failed to kill with this human-thing he, Meg and the angels had going on. Jo had persuaded her mother to let her buy a broom, and she was a reserve chaser for their house team, unfortunately unable to get a look in yet because of the current star chasers they had. (“Sixth year,” she had told them with gritted teeth).

“Freaking leprechauns,” Dean muttered. “These guys are insane.”

The leprechauns were interrupted by pretty woman. Crowley’s lip quirked as people almost fell over themselves in order to get to them.

“See?” Meg elbowed him, pointing at Dean. “He’s not even looking at them. He is so totally in love with that angel of his!”

“So what do you want to do about it?” Crowley snapped, “Love potion?” He had no idea where Meg was coming from with her crazy idea that Cassie and Dean-o had to hook up. Although she did have some very good points… Then again maybe she was just jealous.

“Look!” Sam pointed to where the players were taking off. “It’s about to start.”

“Fascinating,” Crowley drawled.

He was silence with a hissed “Shut up.” which itself was lost in the roar of the crowd.

**

The collective Team Free Will made a tidy profit that night. Crowley had been planning to keep it for himself, but then Castiel flashed those baby blues and he felt sorry for the angel (not that he’d ever admit it) and he divided their winnings.

“We’re buying a base,” Dean told Sam, “Once we get back to the US. We’ll have a base like the Campbells and a dungeon with a devil’s trap and our own rooms…” Crowley tuned out the rambling about that point.

Their luxury camping (“Now I see why people like glamorous camping so much.” “It’s called glamping Dean.” “Shut up bitch.” “Jerk.”) was interrupted by screams, which meant that within three seconds Team Free Will was down five members.  Looking at the remaining two, Crowley wondered if it was a bad thing that only a demon and a kid who should be studying medicine were the only bunch with worries for their own health and safety.

Adam sighed. “We better… come on.” He vanished and Meg, looking worried for the kid (and that was a surprise) followed after him. Crowley thanked God (okay, maybe not God, but he definitely didn’t thank Lucifer) that Bobby and Ellen didn’t care much about them going off and hadn’t come with them, because Ellen most definitely would have hated this.

Crowley found the rest ducked down behind a half-collapsed tent, whispering together. “We should just go,” Adam hissed at them.

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” Meg seconded his opinion. She would have made a good deputy to Hell if it wasn’t for the fact she had wanted his head on a stick. He wasn’t quite sure where he stood with her now. Or what would happen after four years when everything went back to normal. He’d face that problem when it arrived.

“And so we run away instead of helping?” Jo looked disgusted.

Gabriel peered over their hiding place, “Look. They’re people there. As much as I’d love to give those assholes what they deserve, those are ministry officials. Maybe it is better we don’t get involved with this.”

“Gabriel’s right,” Sam agreed. “Come on Dean. You’ll get a chance to get at them later.”

“Freaking wizards’ man,” Dean shook his head as they moved quickly away through the abandoned campsite. “Just as bad as our witches back home... Just as crazy...”

“Who’s there?” a voice called out, near the edge of the woods. Castiel paused, staring at something in the dark.

“I think there is someone…” he was interrupted by a hoarse cry.

“Mordsemorde..!”

A green light shot into the sky, and Crowley raised his eyebrows at the snake and skull, hovering above them.

“That’s… isn’t that the mark Voldemort used to send up over his kills?” Sam whispered.

“It’s his signature. Like Azazel’s fire,” Meg told him. “We should not be here.”

“Agreed...” Crowley never thought he’d find himself agreeing with her. “Let’s get to the car and go. Now…”

“My baby...” Dean was gone just like that, and the rest of them followed him.

Thankfully Dean’s Impala was not ruined at all (nor was the truck Jo had borrowed from Ellen on the promise that Sam would drive “Don’t let Gabriel near the wheel!”) Despite this Jo was the one who hopped in, Sam sitting shotgun with Dean in the Impala with Cass, Crowley and Gabriel squashed in the back seat while Jo only had to settle for Meg and Adam.

“Wow,” Dean had muttered. “I thought once was a miracle but twice…” he whistled. “Two angels... and a demon in the back seat… Again...”

“Dean.” Sam’s voice was one of a person who had been through this before. “Porn... Reality... There’s a difference.”

“I’m hurt Sam, that you automatically assume this is what I’m thinking about,” Dean tutted.

“Can we put some music on or something? I don’t want to have to hear you boys argue all the way back to the house,” Gabriel shifted from where he was uncomfortably sitting in the middle of Crowley and Castiel, being still a small kid with a big mouth and a lack of clicky fingers. At least Crowley was taller than him, and he had been taller than Sam before the Sasquatch had realised its true origins and begun to grow.

When the first few bars of Back in Black turned on, Crowley winced. “Change of plan, turn it off.”

Dean pouted but Sam switched off the player.

Crowley sighed. Cue awkward two hour car ride home.

**

“You need what?” Crowley glared at the skittish Gryffindor fourth year. “Jelly-what-o?”

“Gillyweed,” Neville emphasised. “Please.”

“I can wangle that,” Crowley shrugged. He’s just get Gabriel to steal it from Snape’s stores later. He was convinced that Snape actually knew Gabriel took whatever tickled his fancy, but just ignored it to save himself the headache of finding out what the archangel was doing. Crowley thought that was probably quite wise after he had walked in on Gabriel and a giant model of the moon made of cheese.

“Great,” Neville Longbottom looked relieved.

“But…” Crowley smiled, “It will cost you.”

The boy to his credit didn’t flinch. “How much…?”

Huh, maybe he had some spine after all.

“Just your soul…”

“Crowley…”

Clearing his throat Crowley adjusted his deal, trying to ignore Dean Winchester and his demon killing knife. “I don’t know. What do you have that’s interesting?”

“I have a Remembrall.”

“Brilliant. That’d do then.”

A little while later Crowley was to be seen holding the red ball glaring at it. “This is pointless. How are you meant to know what you’ve forgotten?”

The rest of the gang… they insisted on calling themselves the Team, but Crowley couldn’t care less, were watching the calm lake.

“This is a really great tournament,” Gabriel drawled.

“We just sit here… and wait for an hour?” Castiel seemed a bit disbelieving. (It turned out that the last task wasn’t any more interesting. Despite the tall stands, they couldn’t see into the deep dark paths between the looming hedgerows. Occasionally one would shake, or something would spark up, but beyond that they were once again sitting there and watching a shrub.)

Crowley was still ranting about the glowing glass ball. “Hell everybody’s forgotten stuff. Then there’s stuff you don’t want to remember so of course you forget it. You need it to remind you, not just to tell you how useless you are…”

“They don’t even try and make screens so you can see. We’re cheering to an empty lake.” Sam sighed, before pulling out some homework to do.

The King of the Crossroads was still ranting, but nobody was listening, having tuned him out ages ago. “Honestly who gives this to a kid? This is a complete waste of money and resources. It’s pointless and…”

Meg grabbed it and flung it in the lake, almost hitting a surfacing Cedric Diggory in the head. “Whoops,” she said, innocently, as heads craned to see who had thrown it. “My mistake...”

The glint in her eye spoke otherwise.

**

“Are you sure Umbitch isn’t a demon?” Dean asked him for the millionth time during their sixth year.

“Yes.” Crowley snapped back. “And before you ask, no she’s not any other supernatural creature your pathetically small brain can come up with.”

“Your brain’s… pathetically small…” Dean’s comeback failed and he spun around, moving over to sit by Gabriel instead at the potions table. Castiel like a good little puppy sat next to him which meant…

“Hey’a boss,” Meg slipped in next to him and Crowley felt himself develop a nervous tick. Just because he could stand being in the same room as her didn’t mean he liked her. Even if they were sort of friends, some twisted kind of beneficial acquaintances, it didn’t mean anything.

“Whore,” he returned. “What happened with the pink toad?” The whole of TFW had decided within ten seconds of entering the pink classroom that they didn’t like her. Their suspicions were proved correct when she set them theory to do. Naturally none of them agreed with that and had spent most of their lessons to date either doing other work (Meg and Dean had restarted their book on hell) or trying to glare the Toad to death.

It hadn’t worked so far if Meg’s expression was anything to go by.

“We got detention,” Meg shrugged. “Except Cass who just blinked his baby blues at her...”

Snape announced his presence by slamming open the door and nearly giving one of the more normal Hufflepuff’s a heart attack. “Turn to page 79,” he instructed. “Collect ingredients and start when ready.”

“Wonder what’s stuck up his ass,” Gabriel muttered, as he stole his little brother’s text book and flipped it to the right page. “Hey look – love potion!”

“Wrong page,” Dean tried to flip it but Gabriel refused.

“Look…” he gestured to where Snape was marking some first year homework on his desk. “Do you really think he’s going to notice?”

“Yes,” Castiel said, “He’s a potion’s master and should know the difference between a love potion and a draught of living death.”

Pouting, Gabriel turned to the correct page and vanished off to get ingredients. Snape didn’t seem to notice that the two angels and one Winchester had teamed up in a three, and even if he had he probably didn’t care.

Thankfully Gabriel complied with the instructions and made the correct potion without any mishaps. The same could not be said for Crowley and Meg, who discovered that adding the horns of a Eurasian Sea Slug while the cauldron was still on the open flame resulted in a rather nasty explosion.

“Detention, Masters, McLeod for not following instruction 5b correctly.” Snape didn’t even look up from his desk. “To be sat with Professor Umbridge, because I don’t want to damage my brain further by spending time with you.”

“Oh,” Dean sucked in a breath, “Low blow.”

“I’ve already got a detention with Umbridge,” Meg complained.

“Then you get another one,” Snape still didn’t bother looking up. “Saturday, 5PM…”

Which was how Crowley found himself sitting in detention with Dean, Sam, Gabriel and Meg the following Saturday.

“You’ll be writing lines,” Umbridge looked way too happy about that. “Here, I have special quills for you.”

“It’s okay,” Dean offered her a smile through gritted teeth, “I use pens.” And to prove his point he pulled out a biro.

“Mr Winchester,” the toad pursed her lips, “What is that?”

“A pen,” Sam told her, “Muggles use them to write with. That’s a biro, or a ball point pen, and it releases ink from a reserve supply through a rolling ball mechanism…” he looked like he could go on, and Crowley wondered where the hell the Gigantor found this stuff from.

The teacher didn’t seem to care. She turned up her nose, making her look like a cross between a toad and a pig. An unhealthily pink pig that had been out in the sun too long… “You will stop writing with that disgusting piece of equipment and use the quill provided.”

“But you haven’t given us any ink,” Meg complained, picking up the feather gingerly.

“Oh you won’t need any,” the ‘Professor’ smiled, and Crowley recognised that thin-lipped smirk from several demons he had met. Alistair used to use it, just before he’d rip out your heart and feed it to you in little pieces.

“What are we writing?” Gabriel chewed the end of the feather (and that was disgusting, who knew where the woman kept them) lazily.

“I will comply with the instructions given,” Umbridge told him. “As many times as it is needed for it to… sink in…”

Crowley snorted but began writing. The quicker he did this the quicker he’d be gone. He wasn’t expecting for a sharp scratch of pain on the back of his hand.

He rubbed at it, frowning, and continued writing. Over to his left he heard Sam let out a gasp, staring at the back of his hand which was raw with red, sharp red lines trickling through the skin.

It was only when Crowley finished his tenth sentence, that the sentence became visible on his own hand. To his left Sam had stopped writing, glaring at the quill.

“Professor,” he raised a hand.

“Is there a problem?” her confident, smug smirk made Sam falter.

“Uh… no… I just…”

“Is this even legal?” Dean demanded.

“Hand, Mr Winchester,” she responded snottily.

Sam had found his voice and threw the pen to the table. “This is crap,” he said, glancing at the others and their reddening skin, words being etched into them. “This is infringing upon our rights and…” he continued for a bit, and even Crowley got a bit lost with all the legal jargon he threw in there.

“Oh Samuel,” Umbridge smiled condemningly, “This is perfectly legal, and as Hogwarts Inquisitor I am well within my right to do this.”

On the Hell King’s right, Gabriel leaned back. Naturally, Crowley noted the archangel had been writing dirty limericks instead of the required lines. What a thing to have carved into your hand… Shaking his head, the archangel frowned. “No.” he said.

“Excuse me?” her voice was so shrill it made his ears hurt.

“How about ’no’ we don’t agree to this barbaric torture,” Gabriel spat. “Father if I had even a small bit of my grace available to access and not blocked off I’d scrawl in blood the truth about you all over your body.” The archangel of judgement stood abruptly, eyes cold as he spun around and made for the exit. “You’ll get your just dessert,” he promised, and for the first time since Crowley had met ‘Loki’ he fully realised that the happy go lucky Trickster was an archangel, almost as powerful as Michael and Lucifer had been.

Archangels were heaven’s most dangerous and terrifying weapons.

Toad in pink had just declared a war she was not going to win.

“I agree with Gabe,” Sam seemed to have picked up that nickname Dean had coined for the arch, as he scraped back his chair.

The door slammed closed before he reached there. “You will stay and finish the detention,” Umbridge said, high pitched voice icy.

“Or what..?” Meg snapped, as she and Dean stood up, the latter snapping his quill in half and grabbing his bag.

The toad in pink stepped forwards, quivering with fury even as a growling filled the classroom. Everyone’s eyes except for hers focussed on the Doberman (hell hound) puppy between her and them. “What is that…?” she frowned, looking around, not spotting it. “You will cease this nonsense this instant or you will be in here until the end of next year!”

Meg laughed, spinning around, her eyes flashing black as she turned towards the door. For a moment nothing happened, and then with a crash it flew open. Meg faltered only for a second before walking out, Sam and Dean on her heels.

Crowley paced slowly after them, making sure to whistle and call his pet. “Good boy,” he smirked, his own eyes burning red and leaving the teacher in a mix of fury and fear.

Outside Meg was waving her arms about. “Damn it,” she cursed. “I can’t do it anymore. It was just that… and then nothing. Back to normal…”

“Good timing,” Sam ran a hand through his Jesus-locks. “We needed that. She’s going to be out for our blood.”

“Not if Gabriel gets there first,” Crowley smirked.

“Oh yeah..?” Dean snorted. “Gabe can exact his just dessert. I reckon we can figure something up as well.”

“Like what?” Meg sneered. “Hair dye..? That woman deserves something horrible… Alistair something... And I don’t think the school will approve if we kill her.”

“Oh I’ve got a plan,” Dean glanced at where Growly was sitting at Crowley’s heels. “That is… if you don’t mind.”

One complicated spell later and they were all set. Growly rolled on his back, whining for attention, but nobody could hear him anymore. The spell Sam had concocted using some Arithmetic equations was a silencing spell, which had one vital part added. Or missing as it were... Nobody else could hear the hell hound puppy, except one pink wearing bitch.

She tracked them down at supper and had barely begun to lecture them than a subtle signal to Growly prompted him to release a loud howl. The toad jumped.

“What was that?” she demanded.

And of course, nobody else could hear him.

“What was what?” Dean asked innocently. Growly let out a deep growl.

“There’s a dog in here…” Umbridge snapped. “Some student is harbouring a filthy mutt…” for some reason she cast Potter a suspicious glance.

By the end of the week of her failed dog-hunt, even the teachers were beginning to think that Umbridge had lost it. “Poor thing,” Flitwick could be heard saying, “The stress of the extra duties has gotten to her.”

Crowley ordered his pet to stalk her around for a month. By the end of it she was a sleep depraved mess.

Gabriel had watched this all with mild, but dark amusement. “Not bad,” he said critically. “But I’ve got better.”

It turned out Growly wasn’t the only reason she wasn’t sleeping to well.

“I got Dibby and Fiddle to lace all her food.” He told them. “With this… well it’s the opposite of dreamless sleep… it basically makes you have nightmares. It’s illegal… considered dark and all that crap, but she deserves it.”

“Wonder what she has nightmares about,” Dean had muttered.

Gabriel smirked. “See that’s the thing. This potion, it takes other people’s nightmares and it projects them to the drinker. She’s having every possible nightmare in the school while we have peaceful dreams.”

Sam started, “That’s why…” he stopped himself, frowning. “Did you lace it with sedative or something?” he changed his question. “So she sleeps even if she doesn’t want to?”

Crowley recalled Sam’s mental breakdown of Lucifer in his head giving him insomnia and almost killing him.

“She gets to live with it.” Gabriel confirmed. “I’m not killing her that easily.”

Needless to say Umbridge left them well alone after that, firmly cemented in the decision that they were mentally insane (although to be fair most of the school held that opinion) and that it was catching.

She didn’t even care when they began to treat her lessons as free periods.

**

The wizarding world was idiots.

He reckoned that he only ever got to interact with the really stupid side of the magic community (because the clever side were clever enough not to make a deal with a demon. Unless you were called Dean or Sam Winchester and your other half had just been killed, in which case it was practically expected by now to see the other remaining half at a crossroads.)

Sometime over the Christmas break of their last year, they had the joy of dealing with a demonic rabbit problem, and nobody was exactly sure how that had happened. The school already terrified of the dark lord with a French name, (“Surrender or die.” “What are you, French?”) were freaked out by the demonic bunny army.

“What did you do?” Adam asked Gabriel, looking down at the army of bunnies sitting in the courtyard with black eyes.

“I smote a dementor,” Gabriel announced happily. Way too happy for Crowley’s liking.

“With that bunny spell..?” Dean peered down at the deadly rabbits. “Why is it always the rabbits,” he sighed.

Meanwhile Sam, Crowley and Castiel were setting up an indoor army of snowmen (in contrast to their still tropical courtyard and the marsh created by the Weasley twins). They couldn’t go home because of the French lord, and they had all completed their winter homework like obedient little students.

“Oh I have had it with you people,” Jo startled, and then rolled her eyes as she turned around to find the corridor existing as a winter wonderland.

Adam whistled, impressed, albeit a bit cold as he wrapped his red and gold scarf around his neck tighter. “It’s like… an alternative universe…”

“Nope...” Crowley frowned, wondering why Sam and Dean had vanished so quickly with mutterings of “Damn Balthazar.” He shrugged. Winchesters…. What did you expect?

The black-market he set up was running smoothly now, and Meg had joined in his illegal dealings. It was around the winter of the demonic rabbits (which eventually vanished, and nobody realised that the Christmas pies contained rabbit meat) that Draco Malfoy approached Crowley for help.

“All that stuff you said about demons,” Crowley hummed, not really listening, and still wondering if Malfoy really was part fairy. “Assuming its true how would you go about summoning one?”

“Depends what you want?” Crowley shrugged. “Stand at a crossroads and trade your soul. Or summon one to a devil’s trap and bargain for something else.”

Malfoy was looking desperate, so Crowley took pity and scribbled down some instructions on how to summon a demon.

He later regretted that, Malfoy proving exactly why wizards were idiots. In retrospect they had been planning on leaving soon anyway, under the pretence of the war being too much to handle. After the boggart incident, which resulted in Sam and Dean living in the astronomy tower for about three weeks (someone had taken over the room of requirement much to their annoyance, and they hadn’t yet worked out who it was so they could kick them out) while the talk about their boggart who had been unable to pick a form died down, they had been planning on skedaddling soon enough.

Instead they left after Draco, fed up at the failed deal with the not-quite-so-demonic-king-of-hell, tried to make a deal with a real demon.

“Don’t let the teachers see us,” Sam whispered as they slipped in next the Team at the table. “Dumbledore wants to questions us about stuff.”

“Therapy…” Dean shuddered. “Or maybe an insane asylum… Hey, did we ever tell about that one time Sam and I talked to a doctor about starting the apocalypse, being entirely truthful, and…”

“Yes,” Meg’s patience was wearing thin. “We heard that before. And none of us were surprised.”

“Thanks,” Dean said sarcasm evident in his voice. “You guys are so supporting.”

“I reckon we can leave soon,” Gabriel told them, interrupting the two Hufflepuff’s usual bickering. “I can bind to my grace easier and easier and the demons can move stuff telekinetically now.”

“Yeah,” even Adam agreed, “I don’t want to stay for any more of _this_ story.”

That was when the doors burst open, literally being ripped off their hinges as students screamed, ducking to the ground. Except Dean who was still eating his pie and Castiel who just blinked. Black eyes shone out of a sneering face and Crowley didn’t have to glance over at Draco Malfoy to confirm his theory.

The black-eyed man, a lanky blonde with a pierced ear ignored the students, heading straight for Dumbledore. The pupils ducked down, while the teachers threw spells at him, the lights being absorbed like water or deflected with a lazy hand as the demon laughed, pausing.

His black eyes sought out the old man, tilting his head as wands went flying into a neat little pile on a table. “Something like that won’t work on something like me,” he chuckled.

“Nicor..?” Crowley blinked at the demon.

Said demon paused, startled, and glanced around until he spotted Team Free Will. He froze.

“Oh no. F*** this.” he cursed, happy evil demonic composure shattered just like that, “I’m out of here.”

What?” Dumbledore blinked, his dramatically billowing robes stilling as his heroic moment was ruined by where Team Free Will was casually eating lunch. None of them looked particularly intimidating. Dean had his mouth stuffed full of pie and Meg was blowing bubbles into her drink with a straw.

There was an awkward silence, broken by the snap of Gabriel’s chocolate bar. Sam and Dean still flinched, even after seven years, expecting a finger clicking.

“Who the hell invited them!?” the demon snarled, backing away from them quickly.

“Invited who?” Dumbledore approached the black-eyes.

Nicor jabbed a finger towards them, Sam currently playing with the demon killing knife. “Them!” he cried. “The Winchesters…. I… oh god I’m gonna’ die, I’m dead…”

“God’s not listening,” Gabriel smirked, “He’s on vacation.”

If possible, the demon’s face went paler. “You... you're an archangel..."

"Not bad," Gabe laughed. "You're a demon."

“Oh crap…” Nicor cursed.

“Oh stop whining.”

“Sorry boss.” Slipped out of his lips, and Crowley briefly considered that Nicor wasn’t from 1997, he was from 2012 sometime, but then shrugged it off. They were from 2012 too, and they drew other stuff from that time to them like a magnet.

Castiel disappeared and reappeared behind the guy with a flutter. “Can I smite him?” How cute. He actually asked Dean’s permission first.

“Is the guy still alive?” Dean asked, finishing his pie

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Dumbles had spotted an opportunity to question a source other than TFW and he was taking it. “Why are you scared of them?”

“ _Why_?” Nicor laughed hysterically. “Have you not _heard_ about the Winchesters? The hunters who _die_ and _di_ e and keep coming _back_...You… you kill one and the other kills _you._ You kill both and their pet angel kills you and brings them back… they’re cursed!”

“Well we did break those mirrors…” Dean considered briefly. That must have been a lot of mirrors, Crowley considered, to get them all that bad luck.

“Hunters..?” Dumbledore was frowning, and Crowley wondered if things were finally clicking into place for the old addled fool. “You’re scared of them?”

Nicor had his hands held up in a surrender position. “Of course,” he muttered, “Who wouldn’t be… after what they did to Lucifer… to _Michael_ and _Lilith_ and _Alistair_ and _Azazel_ and _Ruby_...? After what happened to the horsemen? War, Famine and Pestilance are quivering fools, nothing more than dead demons without their rings. I’d be a fool not to be scared of them.”

“What did they do to Lucifer?” Old fool pressed.

“They threw him back into his cage,” Nicor sneered, and Crowley signals to Meg, because he’s talking too much now. Why did all his demons insist on monologue… and about the Winchesters of all topics...? Why couldn’t they monologue about butterflies and rainbows? “They threw Michael down with him. We had all these plans for them… they were just puppets… Heaven and Hell… the pair was just meant to fall in line but instead they screwed us all. Michael and Lucifer’s vessels stopped the Apocalypse and spat in fate’s face and…” he stopped as holy water splashed onto his form, hissing. “What was that for?”

“To shut you up,” Sam said grimly. “Okay Gabe, deal with him.”

“My pleasure,” and for the first time in almost seven years, Gabriel’s eyes were molten amber, as he clicked his fingers and with an orange light the body crumpled, demon gone. “Hell yeah..!” Gabriel punched the air. “That’s what I’m talking about baby!”

Crowley eyed the confused man waking on the floor, not missing Nicor. He hoped that next time someone tried to assassinate the twinkly-eyed man they would use a more competent demon. Everyone in Hell knew that only Beelzebub was worse than Nicor at getting something done and that was only because he got distracted easily by horrible floral curtains which also set him on a new mission to refurbish Crowley’s office with them.

Every single damn time…

**

So after Hogwarts received a non-too subtle clue that demons (and thus angels) might actually be real there was a bit of chaos throughout the castle.

That was why Team Free Will ran away at that point. Sam was later heard to rant to a nice genius tech girl who was helping them clean up Roman Enterprise about how stupid and prejudicially narrowed minded the wizards were.

“You mean Hogwarts is real?” Charlie let out a weak laugh.

“Hermione reads too much.” Sam said, and coming from him that was saying something. “I was in Ravenclaw and the vast majority of my house thought that. Except Luna… She was nice – I stopped some people bullying her and hiding her stuff once. We went to the Yule Ball together.”

There was a strangled choke from the other end of the line.

“Charlie? Charlie? Are you still alive? Charlie?”

Team Free Will’s vacation was well and truly over, and not just because the date had changed to 2012. Yet somehow, they still all found themselves living together after Jo had accidently spun around and apparated to Nevada and needed someone to pick her up.

“I thought we’d have lost this crap,” Dean muttered, attempting to wave his wand at a beer bottle. Concentrating on it so hard, he looked almost convinced that he had made it move before realising that instead Castiel had snagged it off the table and taken a sip much to Dean’s annoyance.

Sam was sitting over by Crowley and had his wand sitting next to him. Without using the hawthorn and hellhound blood instrument (Crowley didn’t find that amusing and at his feet Growly whimpered) he was glaring at a chair, trying to get it to move.

It scraped across the floor with a horrible screeching noise.

“What the…” Crowley looked alarmed. “Oh no. Please… please say that he didn’t…”

The angel and hunter were turned to watch Sam’s psychic attempts. “The wand doesn’t work,” Sam told them, as the chair continued its discordant symphony. “But I feel like I did when I…” he paused, before saying, “Like when I was on demon blood.”

Crowley inched away, unwilling to be exorcised and killed like both Lilith and Alistair had gone.

“Not like that,” Sam muttered, “Just… the psychic power feeling. Like when I used to have those visions…”

“Here I thought we were part fairy,” Gabriel relaxed slightly... “I guess Dad just gave us a boost in power.”

“And it worked like magic why exactly?” Adam frowned. “And why do we still have it?”

“Residue..?” Gabriel shrugged. “We get magic for seven years and then lose most of it. Angels go back to halos and wings, demons get their pitchforks back, you guys just don’t lose all of it.”

“So you mean if I spin around too elaborately I’ll teleport everywhere?” Jo asked eyes wide. She looked a bit annoyed, but after considering it she spun on her heels and reappeared, right behind her boyfriend. Adam jumped in alarm and Jo laughed. “Okay, so maybe this isn’t going to be too bad.”

It wasn’t for the most part. The four humans were now pretty much psychic at a medium level, with some odd extra tricks. Only Jo could work the apparating, which Dean didn’t really mind much due to the feeling of being squashed through a tube. Only Adam managed to emulate a finger zappy technique similar to the angels. He could poke someone in the forehead and they’d be pretty much healed of injuries, and that was about the limit for the soon-to-be medic. Ideal, if nothing else, the pair was happy with their new skills.

Sam wasn’t happy with his visions.

Dean was even less happy with the flammability of objects near to him.

“At least it’s not connected to Michael,” Gabe told him after Dean accidently set the bed on fire for the third time.

Dean spent the next ten minutes running around with a flaming sword to prove the archangel wrong before Gabriel remembered he could now fly and took a brief holiday at Disneyland.

They worked it into their gig though, when the brothers drove out to burn bones or whatever other psychopathic stuff the pair got up to in their ‘roadtrip’ around the US of A. Bobby and Ellen phoned up hunters they hadn’t spoken too in years from Britain, re-establishing contact. Eventually Ellen phoned around the American contacts too, explaining how ‘rumours of her and Jo’s death were greatly exaggerated.’ She eventually realised that she just had to mention the name Winchester and the other hunters would shrug and go along with it.

“What the hell have you boys been up to?” she had asked them, after getting off the phone with a pair of morons called Roy and Walt.

The no longer twins found convenient excuses to be elsewhere.

The best thing about being back was that he was no longer a seventeen year old. He was still shorter than Sasquatch and the Yeti’s little big brother, but at least he didn’t have to look up to every other person he met.

Crowley was still a bit annoyed at God though. The lord of high had done nothing more than return them to America, turning them back to their rightful ages. Lazily he didn't bother placing them where they had previously been, instead dumping them in Lebanon, Kansas, and literally picking up the house from England and moving it, like kids used to imagine moving house.

Sam and Dean moved out to their new ‘base’ after their grandfather quite literally materialised out of the wardrobe, closely followed by Abaddon which set them all on panic for a few days. Eventually the grandfather died and the demon ran off to Hell and Crowley was left to curse his bad luck and tend to his wounded pride. He was King dammit…

The only other thing God had done which pissed Crowley off was that while both the angels and demons were back to full power, none of them could now switch vessels (or meatsuits). He was pretty earth bound now, and reclaiming Hell wasn’t going to be easy. On that matter some happy-go-lucky angel called Metatron was running around with a poor prophet and trying to throw the angels out of Heaven.

It was all in a day’s work really. Or a year. Hell maybe their own lives were stories being written… Crowley made a mental note to check what God was up too.

God as it turned out had forgotten he was God and was getting really, really drunk as Chuck Shirley. He awoke with a massive hangover, and blinked blearily at the word document in front of him.

“What the hell did I write?”


	9. So this is it? Team Free Will? (Harry)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magic, he could cope with. A dark lord out to kill him, he could cope with. Eight people nicknamed Team Free Will… well… that was pushing it.  
> Harry deals with the insanity of the Supernatural.

**Chapter 9: Team Who Decided to Name Us That?**

Harry had first met the Team during his first night at Hogwarts. The hat had shouted out Gryffindor and he had been sorted into the house he was going to be in for the rest of his time at the school. His first friend had shortly joined him, and they had sat there, marvelling at the castle.

“Not again, Novak,” one of Ron’s brothers had leaned over to talk to someone on the other side of Ron. A brown haired kid with amber eyes grinned back at him. “Can’t you find your own table?”

Harry noted the green and silver tie on the boy, and then spotted the boys friends, their own ties a rainbow of colours. “You’re not in Gryffindor.” He said, albeit a bit stupidly.

“Nope,” the kid – Novak – popped the ‘p’. “Why should I be? Reckless and stupid, that sounds more like those two mutton heads than me!” he jerked his thumb over his shoulder to two other boys, one wearing a yellow tie, short crew cut hair and… Harry frowned, because he was pretty sure that a shirt and jeans were not regulation uniform. Even if there was a black robe draped over the top. The other boy had a blue and bronze tie and longish hair and seemed to stick to the standard uniform more than the yellow and black tied boy.

“So you _didn’t_ decide to stand up to Lucifer?” the long-haired one asked Novak, voice calm.

Novak smiled, but didn’t answer, glaring at a blank space over Harry’s shoulder at being caught out in his own personality.

“Yeah,” the other boy laughed. “I thought so.” He leaned past another yellow-tied boy and held out his hand to Harry. “Dean Winchester.” He smirked, “Nice to meet you.”

“Harry Potter,” Harry said, before realising that introducing himself around here was probably pointless. “But you probably already knew that.”

“Why would we?” a dark haired girl looked up. Her gaze met a sandy-haired boy who unlike his friends, actually had a Gryffindor tie on. “Oh.” She muttered. “Right, nice to meet you kid.” She clicked her fingers in front of Dean’s face. “Concentrate smart-ass. What were you saying about fairies?”

Harry blinked, turning back to Ron with the feeling that he’d just missed some large and complicated point. “That was weird,” Ron mumbled through a mouth of food.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed.

It would take him a few years to find out just how right he was.

**  
He thought he wouldn’t see them much, being from a mix of houses, but he soon found out he was incorrect in that assumption. “They all sit together,” a second year called Katie Bell who knew them said. “The teachers tried to tell them to split, but they just don’t listen. They were all raised together and have issues interacting with people. They…” she paused.

“They’re a little…” Fred (or was it George?) waved his finger around in a circle by his ear. “Cuckoo,” he whispered.

“Not that they’re bad,” the other twin added. “They’re nice folks. Just ignore what they jabber on about.”

“What is she doing?” Ron was staring at the Ravenclaw table where the dark haired girl snatched up a salt shaker and stalked over to the entrance doors. A bunch of Slytherins had appeared and she moved to stand in front of them, before unscrewing the lid and tipping the salt in front of him.

Everyone was apparently so used to their antics that nobody batted an eyelid at this, except Draco Malfoy whom the salt was poured in front of, and the ghosts who were suspiciously absent. Malfoy just edged around her in a wide berth.

“Told you,” Winchester was sniggering, his voice drifting over to the Gryffindor table. “The boy is just a punk-ass kid. Not a fairy.”

“But his hair,” she hissed. “I’d have to dye mine to get it even vaguely that colour!”

“Yeah, you fight those fairies,” Sam mocked and his brother punched him. Harry wondered what the hell they were talking about.

There was a squeal from the entrance hall as Quirrel entered. Upon seeing the pile of salt, he backed away and vanished from view. The group at the Ravenclaw table paused, looking really confused.

“Is he afraid of salt?” the Hufflepuff asked, blue eyes narrowed.

“Maybe he’s a fairy,” the dark haired girl insisted.

Harry couldn’t work out why Winchester and the sandy haired boy found the situation so funny.

“They have this thing about salt,” Katie Bell told Harry and Ron. “The twins…”

“Wait…” Ron interrupted. “Twins? Who?”

“The two older Winchester brothers – Sam and Dean.”

“But they’re not identical,” Ron whispered. “When have you ever heard of twins who aren’t identical?”

The bushy haired Granger sniffed, leaning forwards to add her own addition to their conversation. “Actually there is such a thing as fraternal twins. It’s when two eggs are fertilised by different sperm instead of a single egg which splits.”

“What?” Twin A blinked. “I’ve never heard of that. Muggles maybe, but in magicals, all twins are identical.”

“Weird.” Twin B whistled.

“Anyway,” Katie waved Fred and George away, “We used to have this really boring ghost for a history teacher. Then one night McGonagall catches Sam, Dean and Jo, that’s my blonde roommate after they snuck out of the castle to go into the village. That same night, we lost our history teacher. Apparently Binns went up in flames. Gone. They checked out his grave and his bones were covered in salt and burned to a crisp.”

Harry winced. “Does that destroy ghosts?”

“So they claim,” Katie shrugged. “The teacher sucked, so nobody complained much. They got detention for sneaking out but that was about it.”

“They’re legends,” Fred told the pair. “Crazy, but legendary…”

And for most of Harry’s time there, that was the reputation of the self-dubbed ‘Team Free Will’.

Nobody quite knew why they called themselves that either.

**

“I hate spiders,” Ron mumbled, staring wide-eyed at the large monsters around them as Harry began trying to talk to Aragog. He used the verb ‘trying’ because the spider looking at his head like it was a tasty snack was the most off-putting thing he’d ever had to ignore, beyond a dark lord out for his life.

It seemed the spider couldn’t ignore that fact forever either, and after telling them nothing that wasn’t maddeningly unhelpful, proceeded to let his extended family have a snack. Harry had a moment to wonder how one single male spider multiplied (on its own) to produce more baby killer giant spiders, before Ron grabbed him as the pair began searching for a way out of the spider-webbed clearing.

The approaching giant Acromatulas clicked their pincers threateningly, the noise rustling throughout the clearing like whispers.

“We’re going to die…” Ron whimpered. “Follow the spiders… why couldn’t it have been follow the butterflies?”

Something sticky splashed down on Harry’s face, and he wiped it off, staring in disgust at the mucus that clung to his hand.

There was a clicking noise in his ear and he froze, head swivelling around to see the eight eyed creature hanging from a tree above him.

Harry had a brief moment to contemplate that several giant spiders were going to succeed where a dark lord had failed, before the Acromantula dangling above him shuddered backwards, all eight legs being pulled backwards, as if stung by something.

A moment later there was a loud crash, and something shuddered into the hairy body, causing the legs to twitch frantically and the spider to click ominously.

“Uh… Harry…” Spinning around, the dark haired boy saw yet more spiders advancing on them, but a few were being jolted by something… it was almost as if someone was shooting them with spells…

“Who loaded the rock salt?” someone who wasn’t Ron or Harry called out, and there was some more clicking, but metallic, mechanical and then there was another shot, which Harry realised was from a gun.

Whatever the people had been shooting previously had obviously been replaced by something more potent, for now when the shotgun hit the spider creeping towards Ron; it tore half the head away in a splattered, gory mess.

There was a twig cracking, and Harry spun around, wand raised and ready to shout a spell out, when he saw not a spider, but a lanky form spinning a large and lethal looking blade in his hand. The machete spun through the air, cleaving a leg off and then lodging itself into the exoskeleton of another spider where it stayed, refusing to budge.

“Damn it…” the lanky form mumbled, tugging as the spider writhed in its dying throes. Someone pushed past him with a snort.

“Got your sword stuck again Sammy?” Harry blinked, recognising the figure as the loud-mouthed Hufflepuff. He was dressed in jeans and several layers of shirts and jackets, and he too held a machete in his hand. “What are you waiting for kid?” Winchester asked. “Going to stand there or going to run?”

“Run where?” Ron asked, flinching as another spider exploded nearby. Along the tree line the Slytherin Novak looked a little too smug.

“Who taught Gabriel how to make explosives?” the brunette Hufflepuff girl muttered, from where she was shooting missiles out of her wand, impaling the eight legged arachnids.

“What are you doing here?”

“Hunting giant spiders? What does it look like we’re doing? Having a f***ing tea party?” Dean paused to spin around and machete another spider.

Behind Winchester, the brother finally managed to pull his machete free of the now dead Acromantula. He spun around, looking for his next prey, only to find that his older brother had slain everything within a two metre radius and the rest were fleeing from the Gryffindor pair with shotguns. “Everyone all right?” he called.

“No,” Dean shook his head, shoving Harry and Ron forwards towards the exit to the clearing, and hopefully back to the castle. “I don’t get it. This isn’t Lord of the Rings. So why are we being attacked by Shelobs?”

“You’ve _read_ Lord of the Rings?” the youngest Winchester looks amazed, even while his voice dripped with sarcasm.

“Shut up asshole.”

“Jerk,” Adam, Harry remembered his name from Common Room discussions, snapped back.

Winchester’s Hufflepuff male friend appeared blue eyes wide. “Come on,” he said to them, “Let’s get you out of here.” And he led them through the forest, leaving the rest of the Team to straggle behind, checking that all the spiders had actually left.

“That was awesome,” Harvelle was saying, her eyes shining.

“That was madness!” Ron whispered to Harry.

“I guess,” the other Slytherin, the only one of the group who actually owned a British accent said (Winchester could fake quite a nice one if the situation required it, and seemed to like to mock the teachers with it). “Some people might see it that way, but those two mutton heads see it as a party.”

“A chance to unwind,” his house mate sauntered past, a bag slung over his shoulder and clinking with vials of liquids which would probably react very violently together, as one of the screaming burning spiders could tell you, had it not already died.

Harry didn’t feel particularly sorry for the arachnids which had been about to eat them and the fate they had been given.

Death by Team Free Will… it seemed like an odd way to go.

Still, at least they hadn’t needed saving by a car or something, because that would have just been embarrassing.

“Okay kids,” Winchester patted them on the shoulders, ignoring Harry’s indignant “we’re only a year younger than you!” “Off you go, back to bed, and we both agree to not spill to the teachers about this, got it?”

“Spill to the teachers?” Ron glared at them, “About how you wander around the Forbidden Forest killing giant spiders?”

“We’ve killed worse things than that,” the other brother said, amused.

It was only later, that Harry reflected upon that, and realised that never for a second had he doubted that statement.

**

“The potion will be ready soon,” Hermione was whispering to them. “We just need to get a part of the person that we’re going to turn into…” she was interrupted by pounding footsteps.

Harry looked over his shoulder as Dean Winchester raced down the corridor, being chased by the brunette Hufflepuff housemate of his.

“Come back here you goddamn smart-aleck! I’ll tear out your tongue and stuff it down your nose!” Were just a few examples of the various threats she was shouting at him.

Dean had paused mid-corridor to throw a Bible at her as hard as he could (Harry wondered why Winchester carried a Bible). The Bible caught Masters under the chin, whipping her head back as she practically somersaulted backwards, landing painfully on her back, face to the sky. “I’m gonna kick your ass!” she snapped, struggling to her feet.

“You know this whole tough chick act thing…” Dean spun around to taunt his housemate for a bit, “Is really unbecoming.” His voice dropped to mimic hers, “’I’m gonna’ bounce you on your ass, I’m gonna’ smack your bitch head!’ It’s so unfeminine!’” he then looked alarmed as she stood up straight and he turned away, laughing and bolted for the end of the corridor, students ducking to get out of the bickering pairs way.

It was a testament to how much Hogwarts accepted the weird Team that nobody even blinked or looked twice at the scene, and the few who wondered what was going on shrugged it off minutes later.

They were probably safer not knowing.

The next day Harry was wondering whether the scene in the corridor was in any way linked to what Novak came up with to help with the Christmas spirit. Following what was apparently a famed trick of the year before Harry had arrived at Hogwarts where Snape was forced to sing in song lyrics, most of the school was now forced to sing in Christmas carols.

And the worst thing was that it didn’t end.

It made trying to ask Malfoy if he was the heir of Slytherin very difficult, when all they could do was chorus ‘Silent Night’ to him in Crabbe and Goyle’s deep voices. Eventually they began writing, much to Malfoy’s suspicion since he seemed convinced that the pair couldn’t write, let along spell, to save their life. Thankfully they got out of there having done nothing more than convince Malfoy that the gorillas were idiots and knowing that the chamber was last opened fifty years ago.

 _“I wonder if we’d have found out more if we could talk.”_ Ron scrawled on a piece of parchment. Taking a moment to try and read the illegible slant, Harry replied.

Initially he began to sing ‘O Little Town of Bethlehem’ before closing his mouth and grabbing a quill, mentally cursing Gabriel Novak.

Somewhere in the Hospital Wing, Madame Pomphrey had the unique opportunity to witness a cat girl, purring to the tune of ‘O Come O Ye Faithful’.

**

“He looked better as a ferret,” The Slytherin Novak sighed regretfully, slouching in a Gryffindor armchair as if he owned it. He got a few disgusted looks from some die-hard Gryffindors, including Ron, but remained sitting there, Masters (who was the Hufflepuff brunette girl) perched on the arm with Adam sprawled on the floor.

The rest were camping out by the fire, the Hufflepuff Novak and the sole Ravenclaw of the group doing what looked like homework, while the other three listened into conversations.

“Fairy kid,” Masters scoffed.

“Hey Harry!” someone called, and he turned, attention distracted. “Figured out how to hear that egg yet?”

Helplessly Harry shrugged, as he joined Hermione and Ron at the last remaining armchair near the fire. Ron moved over, almost sitting on Hermione and she hit him with her book. “They’re right you know,” she told him, and as happy as Harry was to have both his friends back, he wished they’d stop nagging about the golden thing, still sitting in his trunk. “You really should figure out what it means.”

“What what means?” Ron glared at the nosy British Slytherin who really shouldn’t be in their common room.

“None of your business,” Harry’s friend snapped.

“Oh come on,” Jo glanced over at them, kind of friendly with them since she was in their house, the times she wasn’t running around with the rest of the Team (which was most of the time) in which case they didn’t know her. “Bring it down here and we’ll help you crack it! Right Adam?”

“No!” Adam shook his head. “You’re welcome to be deafened by a golden egg but not me thanks.”

“They’re our friends!” Jo protested.

Masters laughed, and Harry thought it sounded more like a cackle. “If by friends, you mean someone who’d sooner drop an anvil on them then by all means, help them out.”

“You don’t mean that!” Jo snapped.

“Find me an anvil and watch me go.”

Novak had a considering look on his face which was slightly scary for who knew what he could be planning. “We’ll help,” he shrugged. “I mean… it’s not as if I spent ages talking to mermaids, but I think I can still remember the language.”

“What?”

“Mermaids..?” Hermione frowned. “That would… make sense… you can’t hear it above ground because it’s the wrong medium…”

“Great,” the eldest Winchester threw up his hands, “Now they know about the egg, they’re happy, Jo’s done her good deed of the day and she’s happy, and if everyone is happy then I’m happy. Sam, are you happy?”

“Shut up.” Sam didn’t even look up.

“Well as enlightening as our little problem solving venture is, can we get back to this…?” The other Slytherin waved a piece of lined parchment. On closer examination, Harry realised it was just lined paper, something you could buy from a normal stationary store. They were writing with pens too, and not quills.

Jo rolled her eyes, “Sure thing red-eyes.” she consoled him, grabbing a book and looking for something.

Harry wondered why she called him that, if his eyes weren’t red, and then forgot about the thought as he began wondering where he could possible listen to an egg underwater.

**

Throughout the years the Team had become very good at vanishing from view. They skived of Umbridge’s lessons like they were free periods, and the twins were neither heard nor seen for a week after their staged fight in Harry’s second year. At other awkward moments they would vanish for a week, and once Winchester, the Hufflepuff Novak and the other twin had vanished only to reappear looking like they had been through a blender, but grinning from ear to ear.

In passing Harry had heard mentions of ‘five hauntings in five days.’ And ‘now that was a road trip!’ and decided he was better off not knowing.

He had considered asking them to join the DA but the number of eyes the teachers seemed to keep on them made him reconsider, and a brief flash of them, covered in gore and holding machetes and shotguns killing giant spiders told him that they really didn’t need his patronising attempts to teach them how to defend themselves, especially not when the twins took every opportunity to spar, even if it was in front of the whole school at a public defence club.

They also had a massive prank war which sent Umbridge into a mental spiral highly likely to result in an aneurism and early death (at least he hoped) and put anything the Weasley twins had ever done to shame. There was a bout of bad luck circling the school, and it wasn’t until Harry almost slipped on a brown fluffy object on a keychain when walking down the stairs at the entrance hall that he found out what was causing it.

“Is that a rabbit’s foot?” Hermione asked, as he picked it up to examine it.

Harry peered at the brown fluffy object. “I think so. Or a mouldy sock…”

Ron had paused at the sight, eyes wide. “That’s… that’s really lucky,” he breathed. “Wizards have become famous with one of those.”

“Really..?” Hermione was sceptical. Why was Harry surprised? “Harry’s already famous. It’s not like this had dramatically improved his life so far…” she was interrupted by a screech at the staff table where, for the fifth time that month, Umbridge’s clothes vanished from her body leaving her pulling the table cloth up to cover herself, food falling off in a loud clatter.

Hiding a smirk Harry pocketed the foot. “Are you sure Hermione?” he asked her, sidling past.

“Coincidence,” She sniffed.

The bushy haired Gryffindor said the same when he got a potions essay which was marked fairly, Snape having thought it was a Slytherin’s. Then he got a load of points for nothing from the History teacher, and finally he found a bag of sweets on the floor.

“No way..!” Ron moaned, and grabbed the foot from him. He stroked it reverently. “I can’t believe this actually works and then _you_ find it.”

Harry promptly tripped over a flagstone, bag crashing and from the sound of it, his inks breaking.

“How is that lucky?” Hermione triumphant stalked past, shooting them a smug smile.

“Hey look!” Ron leaned over, “A galleon!”

Eventually realising how the foot worked, and also realising that it had originated from the Team’s prank war and been set loose upon the school, Ron got rid of it.

By giving it to Draco Malfoy...

“What is this?” the blonde had sneered, staring at the brown thing Ron had thrown at him (“Think fast Malfoy!”). The red-head turned to run, but promptly tripped and fell, leaving the Slytherins snickering. Harry rolled his eyes, his own spout of bad luck having only just ended with the sweets being a test product of Fred and George’s and putting him in the hospital wing.

Later though, when Snape confiscated the object from Malfoy much to the amusement of Team Free Will who were practically rolling around the floor in hysterics, Ron looked a bit happier, despite his green hair from a colour changing charm gone wrong. Malfoy had just had someone spilt gravy all over him, and in his struggle to get away had fallen over backwards out of his seat. “They’re mental,” he said, gesturing at the Team. “But utter geniuses…”

Harry agreed with his friend.

“Are those weird kids still at school?” Sirius had asked him over the Christmas Holidays.

Harry knew exactly who he meant. “The mixed house group?” he confirmed. “Yeah, and just as…” he circled his index finger by his head, “They’re not that bad though,” he shrugged. “If you get past their whole crazy talk, they’re actually pretty normal.”

Sirius stared at him for a long moment. “I ran across them once.” He admitted, finally. “I was in the Forbidden Forest and the siblings were there, going on about werewolf patrols or something. One of them spotted me… he had a green tie…”

“Novak,” Harry sighed, “He’s an annoying guy.”

“Spotted me out of deep shadows,” Sirius continued. “The others gave me funny looks and started talking about ‘black dogs’. They probably thought I was a grim, but then the girl with blonde hair pulled out some food for me.”

“Poor stray mutt,” Harry grinned.

“Shut up squirt. That wasn’t the weird bit,” his godfather shook his head, “The odd bit was when the younger… Winchester isn’t it? He looked at me and then told the others not to scare the escaped convict. It was as if they knew I was human and not a dog, but they didn’t seem to care.”

“Well if the rumours have anything to believe, then apparently the Novaks have older brothers in prison,” Harry shrugged. “Might be why they’re so close, that group. They barely ever talk to anyone else. Luna gets along with them but that’s to be expected.”

“Remus mentioned that he’d smelt them out in the forest on a full moon and that they knew he was a werewolf. He caught one of them with a silver knife but the kid did nothing more than nick his finger and then apologise, before racing off to tell his friends.”

“Let me guess,” Harry sighed. “Winchester.”

“One of them,” Sirius smiled, “They’re worse than the twins.”

“I don’t think anybody could be worse than Fred or George.”

“I don’t know. Your father and I could give them a run for their money. And from what I hear one of the Novaks is pretty damn sneaky. They’re good kids though,” Sirius patted him on the shoulder. “You can’t go wrong with friends like those who’d stand with you to the death… hell the way those kids talked probably after death too. I’m glad you’ve got Ron and Hermione to help you out.”

Harry was too. He didn’t know where he’d be without his friends.

**

The summer after his fifth year was the best one yet. Sirius’s name had been cleared, the ministry jumping to whatever Dumbledore demanded with vigour and even though Harry was unable to visit Sirius for several weeks, it was something to look forward to. Sirius was the happiest Harry had seen him in a long time, and eventually admitted to Harry that he thought he could produce a hundred patronus’ with the memory of Novak squashing his cousin with an anvil.

Harry had sobered him with the reminder that if the scrawny seventeen year old hadn’t been there, Sirius would probably not be here either, and the pair got to work cleaning the house, grateful for what they had.

Mentioning Novak’s name seemed to almost be a curse, for it was Novak who quite literally stumbled upon Harry, petrified and lying underneath his own invisibility cloak. The Slytherin was having an engaging conversation with Winchester about sexy doctors or something weird, before tripping over Harry.

The cloak slid off him and Harry wished he could move. Then again if he could move, he’d be dying of embarrassment.

“And I thought we got into pickles,” the younger twin, who seemed to have grown over the summer and was now massively tall, leaned down to tap his wand against Harry, the petrification dissolving with a shiver. Another tap and his nose was fixed, albeit, his face still bloody.

“You do,” the nicer Hufflepuff (Harry should really learn their names) said, gruffly. “The amount of times I had to rescue you from being pinned to the wall by demons or tied up by monsters.”

“I prefer being tied up,” Winchester admitted. “Because then at least when the suckers go down you don’t drop to the floor like a sack of bricks.”

“Kinky huh...?” Novak waggled his eyebrows. “Never thought you were one for bondage Dean-o…”

“Shut up,” Winchester cuffed the Slytherin, as his twin helped Harry to his feet.

“You good?” the Ravenclaw asked.

Harry nodded. “Thanks. Uh… sorry about that…” he leaned down for his cloak but the Hufflepuff Novak had already picked it up, running his fingers through it.

“That is a beautiful cloak,” the blue-eyed kid said, handing it back, “You should look after it. Death would not be happy if you lost it.”

Harry frowned. “What?”

Winchester coughed. “Death can’t complain. He’s got his scythe back from Alistair or Crowley or whatever demon had it, he’s got his ring, he’s got his fast food…”

“Harry!” The teenager spotted his rescue from the four weird Team members in the form of a bubblegum haired Nymphadora Tonks. “There you are! And who are your friends...?”

“No-one…” Novak grinned, “We were just…uh…”

“Looking for the bathroom...”

Ravenclaw Winchester’s head hits his palm. “Dean, what did I tell you about teaching Cass how to lie?”

“Humans lie when they want something,” the Hufflepuff… Cass… if that was his name, Harry wasn’t sure what it was short for, said.

The other three rolled their eyes. Harry wondered where the other half of the group had got to.

“Well…” Tonks looked a bit uncomfortable, “Enough hanging about – they want to send the train off. Come on – let’s get on up to the castle.”

“Yeah, come on,” Winchester… Dean… Harry corrects himself, grabbed his twin’s shoulders, steering him along the carriage. “Cursed object this-a-way.”

Harry and Tonks watched them go.

“Do you think they need help getting up to the castle?” Tonks asked, frowning. “Because if those are the kids who were at the Ministry with you…

“No,” Harry shook his head. “I think if any Death Eaters met them, they’d be running the other way, regardless of whether one of them cast a reversing charm on them or not.”

“Reversing charm… Gotta’ remember that one.”

**

“Where’s the ring?” Harry frowned, as Dumbledore dropped the diary on the table. They’d been talking about Horcruxes, and how Dumbledore thought the ring, the snake, the cup, the diary, the locket and something of Gryffindor or Ravenclaw had been made into a horcrux.

Until recently, the ring had been on Dumbledore’s withering hand, but now it was gone.

The old man sighed. “It encountered some curiosity from several students in their final year who I believe call themselves ‘Team Free Will’.”

“Oh.” Harry said, as if that explained it all. Maybe in some ways it did.

“Yes,” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. “They promised to get it back to me, and Gabriel Novak left me with a rather nice bag of sweets as compensation.”

“The sweets weren’t…” Harry paused, not wanting to accuse another student of drugging sweets for the Headmaster.

“No my boy... They were just candy. I understand the group is a littler eccentric…”

Try as he could Harry couldn’t manage to stifle the laugh.

The Headmaster sighed. “In their first year here, we tried to get them some help,” he admitted with weariness, “To aid with their delusions. Nothing worked and the children were innocent. Odd beliefs, yes, but they posed no harm to other students.”

“They think demons and angels are real.” Harry couldn’t stop himself from saying.

Adjusting his glasses, Dumbledore nodded. “They also believe in vengeful ghosts and monsters. Many of which, can be found in your Care of Magical Creatures textbook and are listed as dangerous. It is a sad occurrence, that the Ministry Department which deals with dangerous creatures has been reduced to chasing after harmless Hippogriffs, leaving the threatening creatures to roam, often unchecked.” He paused for a moment, “Naturally, muggles eventually find out about them, often through tragic events. Many then donate the rest of their lives to hunting down beasts like the ones which destroyed their lives.”

“Muggles know about magic?” Harry looked alarmed.

“They know about the beasts, my dear boy. They call themselves hunters, and hunt down all manner of creatures. Not without reason, they often follow body trails to their ‘hunt’ as they call it. I did a little research into the ‘Team’s’ parents. Many of them are adopted into that little family group, and the two adults – a Robert Singer and Ellen Harvelle – are well known in the British, and American hunting community.”

“So… did they raise the kids to be these… hunters too?” Harry frowned.

Dumbledore spread his hands out. “And there is the question. I have my theories. It is highly likely that yes, they did. Combined with traumatic experiences from their childhoods, losing parents, family members, the way they grew up… it is little wonder they are as sane as they are.”

“Are they dangerous?” Harry dared asked. “When they were eleven they can’t have been too scary, but that Ravenclaw had one larger growth spurt. And the teachers keep finding weapons on them… Winchester has this knife he never seems to lose.”

“Oh Harry,” Dumbledore sighed. “Everyone can be dangerous if they choose to be. And yes, that group is dangerous. But it doesn’t mean that they pose a threat. Not if they act with the right intentions.”

**

Looking back, Harry wondered if the whole thing with the Boggart and its multiple forms, the black eyed man who had appeared and then slumped over and remembered nothing later, was all just one elaborate prank of Novaks.

But there had been genuine emotion in the twin’s eyes as the boggart jumped from form to form. From a brunette woman with flashing black eyes to a blonde haired man whose head snapped back into gaping teeth, black ink spilling from his neck. It took more than ten years of a childhood hunting monsters and seven years teaching at a magic school to produce nightmares like the ones that had appeared that day.

No wonder the pair had taken a week long holiday in what Harry later heard was a small room just off the Astronomy Tower.

The Team had seemed shifty enough after that, although many people chalked it down to the war. Harry had a private bet going with Ron that they were going to bolt, and he was proved right after the black eyed ‘demon’ appeared.

Most of the school was still unwilling to admit to what the creature was. The man was a muggle whose last memory was walking down the street and seeing black smoke shove itself down his throat. The black eyed ‘Nicor’ who had strolled in as if he owned the place had the same evil feel that Voldemort did, right up until the moment he spotted the Team.

It was like Voldemort spotting Dumbledore at that Atrium the end of his fifth year.

Nobody could honestly say they were surprised that the Team didn’t appear for breakfast the next morning. No teachers knew what had happened to them… they had just… vanished… into thin air…

Harry remembered that the one… Castiel… had teleported right behind the black eyed ‘demon’ but Hermione had snorted and quoted Hogwarts a History about the Apparating wards. He supposed it must have been a trick of the light – he must have missed the guy move or something.

All in all, Hogwarts was glad to see the back of them, including one Harry Potter (although sometimes they seemed to understand him and he missed that at the very least).

**

The next year he was too busy to worry about them, but when everything was finished and he was lying in his bed, he did wonder what had become of them.

The war was done and over and he could look to the future. Why worry about some kids who had probably skedaddled back to America?

It wasn’t like anybody else in the wizarding world cared. A few Death Eaters had surrendered after seeing someone use the ‘bunny smiting’ spell Novak had invented, but beyond that, it was another thing forgotten about.

These were the people who had a teacher murdered one year, a giant snake patrolling the school the next, an escaped convict hanging around and still thought the school was safe enough to host an international sporting event.

According to Luna they still wrote to her. “Well Sam does at least,” she sighed. “He’s very nice like that.”

“You’re expecting a letter soon?” Harry frowned, looking around for a non-existent owl.

“Yes,” Luna nodded. “The owl only brings a letter once every six months, but she takes my replies whenever I need her to. It’s because they’re ahead and if Sam wrote regularly we’d never catch up to each other. I think the owl is called Zeppelin Dean named her after a muggle band.”

“That’s nice,” Harry said, unsure what to say.

“Very. But then again, Gabriel sends it through time and as an archangel he’s very precise.”

Harry sighed at the sudden swings in the conversation as Luna held out her hand and a brown tawny owl landed on it. Harry jolted eyes wide at the owl that had appeared out of nowhere. “Where did that come from?”

“She flies through time,” Luna pulled off the letter, “She’s very good like that, aren’t you Zep?” She stroked the owl’s plumage as she hopped to Luna’s shoulder and settled down. The blonde girl opened the letter. “Shall I read it out loud?” she asked.

“Uh… sure,” Harry nodded.

“ _Dear Luna_ ,” she began to read. “ _We’re sorry about the war and understand how hard it must have been for you. We’re not trying to make it seem easy, but in comparison to our own experiences you had it lucky. Tell Harry that he did a great job._

_We’re all well here. Crowley and Meg have this thing set up where they jointly run Hell. It was working fine until this new demon, called Abaddon showed up. Apparently she’s a knight of hell, and nobody is really sure what she wants. Dean and I managed to cut off her head for a bit, but we had to stitch it back on for a bit and she used to opportunity to escape._

_We met our grandfather. How odd is that? We’re not the only Winchesters time travelling around here. Abaddon followed him through though and killed him. He left us a legacy though. It turns out that we’re not just Campbell’s, hunters to the bone, but we’re Winchesters, who are scholars apparently. I finally feel like I’ve got somewhere I belong, and something we can work from._

_We’ve got a new base. The place is massive. We found out how to cure a demon and Crowley and Meg have been sending their incompetent minions to be cured and sent to Heaven. So life’s interesting here. I haven’t heard from Gabriel for a while, but Dean woke up as a girl last month and I think he had something to do with it. Thankfully Dean’s back to his usually gender, because believe me; he was bad enough as normal without PMS-ing on me._

_Cass was trying to help restructure Heaven, but he was tricked by this angel. It wasn’t pretty, and we’re still dealing with the aftermath. There’s a lot of fallout from that, and Cass lost his grace meaning that he’s human. It kind of sucks, but we’ll come through. We always do._

_Adam and Jo are hunting together. Adam’s become this sort of hunter-doctor treating Jo after hunts and doing the research. He still doesn’t trust her to hunt alone, and even though it’s not his thing he goes grave digging with her every time._

_We’ve got some new friends too. There’s this kid from Advanced Placement called Kevin Tran who is our new Prophet of the Lord. He’s been translating these tablets for us, which contain the word of God. We found a Leviathan one, which told us how to kill them, although it’s a bit pointless now. There was a demon one, with instructions on how to close the gates of hell, but once Meg and Crowley heard about them it mysteriously vanished from our possession. Kevin also took an extended break to translate that for them. Poor kid… He’s with us now working on the angel tablet, so we’ll see what it says soon enough. Maybe it tells us how to fix Heaven? Who knows?_

_Dean has two new friends. Well… he only has one now. One was a vampire he met when he was wandering around Purgatory on the Bobby rescue mission. The vamp, Benny, decided he actually liked it there and went back. The other is this angel, called Ezekiel, who I really want to like and trust, but don’t think we can risk it. Or maybe I’m just paranoid after the whole Ruby thing._

_You’ve heard about Charlie. She keeps visiting, and I think she and Meg are secretly trying to get Cass and Dean together. I don’t know whether to support them or just try and ignore it. Cass has enough stuff to worry about now and Dean feels guilty enough as it is._

_So anyway, that’s enough from me. How are you? How is your family? Your friends? Give Harry and his friends a sympathetic congratulation from us. We’ve read the books. Thanks for not mentioning us. There was some quite violent editing, but I’ve had enough of being a fictional character._

_Hope you’re all well!_

_Sam Winchester_

_May 2013”_

“2013?” Harry asked.

“That’s their time,” Luna shrugged. “Gabriel sends the owl through time. Eventually I’ll catch up and actually meet them properly. They’re just waiting for that time. Or maybe they don’t have to wait, since, y’know… there’s already a me there.” She smiled serenely and Harry just nodded slowly in agreement.

“And books…” Harry mentally filtered out all the angel demon hell heaven stuff. “What books?”

“Oh!” Luna brightened, pulling out a sheaf of papers. “Here! I got a publishing contract, if you tell me your story, I write it, and then we publish it as books for children! Apparently Sam says they’re really popular. They make them into films.”

Harry stared at the papers with mixed confusion, excitement and dismay.

Just when he thought Team Free Will (seriously… why were they called that?) couldn’t mess up his life any further.


	10. A Cruel and Capricious God (Chuck)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am a God. Just when Chuck thought the characters in his books couldn’t do anything weirder… they manage to go to a secret wizard school. He needs to get really, really, drunk.

**Chapter 10: There’s only one explanation for this…**

Chuck wasn’t sure how it had happened, but reading through the word document he must have been really, really drunk. He rubbed his head, the remains of the migraine still lingering. He didn’t even remember getting drunk to start with. He was just going about, living his totally non-prophet of the lord life which had just stopped after the cage closed, much to his relief, and now he was here, with several days stubble and a hangover which could probably kill Death himself.

He yawned, and scrolling back to the top of the document, he wondered briefly where God had gotten too, before saving it (against his better wishes) and heading towards a long hot shower and his bed.

**

It was hard to say how it started. Meg would have angrily pointed out how it was all Crowley’s fault for as good as ditching her at the Yule Ball, giving two brothers the bright idea of trying to help the demons get better acquainted with each other.

 Which was how they finished eating breakfast one morning, ignoring whatever Sam was doing with a pile of books and a piece of toast, standing up, only to find themselves joined at the hip.

Maybe not literally at the hip; their hands were cuffed together. Sam was the immediate suspect, and he chose that moment to conveniently duck under the table, popping up on the other side next to Dean, while Castiel retrieved his toast experiment.

“Where’s the key!” Meg lunged forwards, forgetting that Crowley was attached to her arm and dragging him into her. The pair lurched, the latter grabbing onto the table for support.

“No key,” Sam looked smug. “It unlocks when you two get on.”

Meg swore at him. Crowley sighed and pulled a paperclip from one of Sam’s books, folding out and trying to pick the lock. He had to drag Meg’s right hand up with his left, dumping it on the table as he inserted the narrow strip of metal.

There was a strangled hiss and wide-eyed, the demon pulled out his make-shift lock pick, observing the melted steaming mess. Dean whistled innocently, grabbing his bag and steering Sam off in the direction of Defence. “Have fun!” he shouted.

“You moron!” Meg snapped. “I’m in your class!” and she moved after them, jolting Crowley from where he was still sat down.

“Stop that!” he hissed. “Let’s just be sensible about this…”

“I’m not listening to you!”

“Well you’re not telling me what to do!”

“Listen… let’s just go to class…”

“Dammit I’m going to kill those bloody Winchesters!”

“Come on, Defence is better than Herbology especially with Gabriel mocking us…”

“I hate it when you’re right…”

“Suck it up Crowley,”

“Shut up.”

Their teacher was less than helpful, merely casting the joined-at-the-hand pair a glare with his rotating eye. “You’re late,” he snapped, as Meg made for her usual seat the other side of Cass, but upon realising there wasn’t enough space, reluctantly let the Hell King drag her to a spare row. Sam and Dean’s shoulders were shaking, and she glared at them, wishing she could telekinetically pin them against a wall and leave them hanging there.

Surprisingly none of the teacher noticed, and out of the few who did, they just raised one eyebrow and didn’t ask. Snape had looked scolding but when Gabriel chose that moment to whistle under his breath “kinky bastards,” the teacher had looked slightly green and moved away to trying a save a toad from exploding.

As such, their magical handcuffs stayed locked for a whole week.

In that time, the two demons had thought up over twenty-six different ways to kill the ‘twins’, with at least fifteen of them guaranteeing that they wouldn’t be caught and held accountable. They had, in desperation, brought their handcuffed wrists (Meg’s right and Crowley’s left) to every single of their teachers in their screwed up time table, but whatever charm Dean had found to keep them together was woven so intricately with another charm to stop it being broken that the spell was impossible to unravel.

They had even tried brute force in the form of the large and part giant groundskeeper who stood even taller than the gigantor at 8ft 6. He seemed like a good fellow, if slightly intimidating, but Crowley had theorised that he was ‘Like the BFG, a Big Friendly Giant’ which then prompted the argument over when the King of Hell had time to sit down and read Roald Dahl.

They left after Hagrid brought out the hammer, their wrists still chained together, and the pair both arguing.

Flitwick got distracted when trying to break it; the small goblin human trying to unravel the spell rather than break it with brute force. He started marvelling over “How beautiful the spell work was… oh if only Mr Winchester would apply himself in class he would match his brothers in grades as well as good looks…” and the pair of demons both developed eye twitches from hearing the praises of the Michael Sword and the Devil’s vessel. The intricate spell work was far too complex and well done for the brother’s own good, and it served as a reminder as to why most monsters hid under the bed only because they were scared of the Winchesters.

They’d long since passed their father’s legacy.

The whole situation was Very Awkward, especially when dealing with the finer aspects of life. The second day however Sam took pity on them, and pointed out another charm that activated, allowing the chain to stretch up to three metres away (‘Like a dog on a leash’ Gabriel had snickered. Jo hit him in the back of the head with the biggest text book she could find in the immediate vicinity). It made things a little more bearable.

“About time,” Meg sighed, when the handcuffs finally snapped open, exactly a week since they had snapped on. She snatched her hand back, holding it to her possessively.

“They better watch out,” Crowley promised darkly. He exchanged a gleeful look with Meg, and the brothers both mentally made a note to stay away from the demons until they had calmed down.

Their plan didn’t work that well when two weeks later they both found themselves bound and gagged in a cupboard. The demons didn’t even have the gall to stick them in the same cupboard (which was stupid, because everybody knew that while the Winchesters were lethal together, separating them was like siccing an enraged panther on yourself.)

At least, Dean mused struggling against his bonds which he was currently rubbing on a rusty nail to fray the thick rope, the pair had the decency to simply tie them up, and didn’t leave them pinned telekinetically to a wall somewhere.

Meanwhile Gabriel was frowning at a blonde haired hunter. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked.

The green eyed teen laughed. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Gabriel decided not to mention that even though the Hufflepuff usually had the reputation of being slightly mad, today he looked a little too happy with something.

“Dean?” Adam spun around, Jo by his side. “Are you coming? We’ve got potions.”

“Gotta’ jet.”

Gabriel watched as Dean vanished, Castiel already waiting at the end of the hall. It then occurred to him that he hadn’t seen Meg or Crowley in some time. He narrowed his eyes at the retreating figure, and then turned to where Sam was walking towards him.

The tall teen seemed unusually clumsy, and let out a yelp as he hit his head on one of the floating candles. “Bloody moose,” Sam muttered.

“Where’s Crowley?” Gabriel asked, looking around Sam (since he was too short to look over Sam’s shoulders).

The Ravenclaw looked panicky for a moment. “Nowhere,” he shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe he and the… Meg… got stuck together again.”

“You would know,” Gabriel remarked airily, “Since you stuck them together.”

‘Sam’ just made a noncommittal humming noise, grabbing a bag and taking off towards transfiguration. Gabriel glanced down, seeing Sam and Dean’s tattered backpacks stuffed full of books still sitting at the table, and ‘Sam’ walking off with Crowley’s smarter shoulder bag. Sighing and smiling despite of himself, Gabriel hurried to catch up, looking forward to whatever happened next.

Nothing different happened immediately. ‘Sam’ seemed a bit indignant when Crowley got a detention for skiving off the lesson, but partnered with Gabriel and began to work on their potion. He seemed distracted, so it was no surprise really when something went bang.

“My hair!” ‘Sam’ yelped, the end of his long and luscious flowing locks singed and burning slightly. Gabriel grabbed the customary bottle of holy water than lived in his bag, courtesy of Dean last Christmas, and tossed in on the disguised Winchester. ‘Sam’ spluttered, a squinting glare being directed Gabriel’s way. The eyes were red for the briefest of seconds, and Gabriel looked far too smug for his own good.

‘Sam’ also got a zero on his potion for that day, which was going to be hilarious later.

“I’m sorry about the hair,” the archangel told ‘Sam’ gravely after the lesson. “It’s a tragedy – I’m just thankful no more was lost…” he stopped as, with a yelp, ‘Sam’ overbalanced and tripped down the staircase… the moving staircase and rolled over the edge.

Poking his head over the banister, Gabriel watched as ‘Sam’ landed on the staircase below with a bump and a groan. “Are you okay?” he shouted, completely unsympathetically. As a muffled swear word drifted up, he smiled, “That’s good!”

Meanwhile in a cupboard at a random location in the school, Sam succeeded in tearing through one of the knots. He glanced around, trying to see how much he had sawn through in the dark. He saw the one knot hanging loose, and then he spotted the other four knots. With a sinking heart, he turned around and began fraying the rope.

He had work to do.

**

Castiel was frowning as ‘Dean’ sorted through his weapons. “You cleaned them yesterday,” he told his friend.

“Got to clean them every day Clarence,” ‘Dean’ said distractedly. “Otherwise they get rusty. Hey, how about you head down to dinner and I’ll join you in a bit?”

“Okay,” Castiel paused in their hobbit-like common room, wondering where Meg was, before continuing to dinner. Dean had been acting oddly all day, and professing his love for Dr. Sexy to Professor McGonagall was by not least the weirdest thing he had done.

He’d found the keys to the Impala, and then hidden them behind a painting in their common room ‘to keep them safe’ and for the whole day, had been walking so closely to Castiel that they were practically holding hands. He also kept dropping references in conversations about ‘sharing a dinner together’ (which considering they ate together every night made no sense to the angel) and weird soppy emotional sentences that were usually more like something Cass would hear from Sam’s mouth, such as ‘what would I do without you’.

“How is Dean-o doing?” Gabriel asked him, as he met with the others at supper. Meg and Crowley were still absent.

“Fine,” Castiel answered, distracted and not noticing the glint in Gabriel’s eye. “Sam, are you okay?”

‘Sam’ was rubbing his head, wincing occasionally. “No,” he muttered, and Castiel noticed the ends of his long hair were singed off. “I keep walking into things. Why is Gigantor so bloody tall?”

“Evening fella’s,” ‘Dean’ slid into a seat next to Cass. He looked unusually happy for some reason.

Castiel reflected on how sad it was that Dean being happy was a rare event.

“Why did you get to be the squirrel?” ‘Sam’ hissed at ‘Dean’.

“Because I’ve already been the almighty moose,” ‘Dean’ rolled his eyes. “I wanted to switch it up a little bit.”

“Took daddy’s car for a joy ride did you? What did daddy think about that?” ‘Sam’ taunted.

‘Dean’ looked like he wanted to strangle his brother, but instead he just snapped, “Bitch,” and leaned back, grinning smugly.

“Sweetie…” ‘Sam’ shook his head, mockingly.

 “What are you two whispering about?” Adam asked, suspiciously over from where he sat next to Gabriel. “Where are Meg and Crowley? Did you do something to them again?”

“No,” ‘Dean’ laughed, but it was strained. “Of course not…”

“They’re not all bad,” Castiel told him. “You should give them a chance.”

“We do!” ‘Sam’ insisted.

“Like you gave me a chance,” Castiel added, meeting ‘Dean’s’ gaze as the blonde swivelled around to look at him. For a moment he had the feeling of being examined like prey as Dean’s eyes flickered over him, sliding down his body and up again, before settling on eye contact.

There was an awkward cough from ‘Sam’ across the table. ‘Dean’ ignored this. “Hey Cass,” he said slowly, as if preparing the words. “Do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?”

Castiel frowned. Gabriel spat out his drink and Adam choked on a mushroom. Which Castiel thought was quite skilled, considering no meal on the table even contained mushrooms. “We go together anyway,” he said, confused.

“Not that way. As in just the two of us … _Together_ …” ‘Dean’ rolled the last word on his tongue. There was a fake gagging sound from ‘Sam’.

“If you don’t want the others to come with us, you could just tell them,” Castiel shrugged.

 _“No!”_ ‘Dean’ grabbed his hand, meeting his gaze again. “Not like that! Just…” the pair stared at each other for another moment. “Oh screw this,” ‘Dean’ rolled his eyes, in a manner almost reminiscent of Meg, before grabbing Castiel’s collar and yanking him forwards, head tilted down so that their lips met in a clumsy kiss. Castiel flailed wildly as ‘Dean’ pressed his lips to the angels. Relaxing into it, the brunette’s eyes slid closed as the blonde deepened the kiss.

There was a sigh of relief from the door. “Thank God _finally_ ,” Sam ran a hand through his jumbled but not burnt hair. “I thought the sexual tension was going to kill me before anything happened between those two.” There were frayed ropes hanging from his wrist and a dust bunny on his plaid shirt.

“Hate to tell ya’ this,” Gabriel said, “But that’s not Dean.” He glanced to where ‘Sam’ was watching the kiss with way too much interest.

“Crowley…” the real Sam by the door ground out startling Castiel and ‘Dean’ apart. Castiel glanced between Sam and ‘Sam’, frowning.

“Sam, why are there two of you?”

Adam sighed, looking slightly relieved. “Polyjuice potion.” He breathed, quietly enough so that the angel didn’t hear. “No wonder Dean was acting off all day. Wait…” he glanced at ‘Dean’. “If you’re Meg, then where is Dean?”

Somewhere else in the school, a closet sneezed. Walking past under his invisibility cloak, Harry Potter jumped in alarm, and then, thinking he had imagined it, continued walking.

Sam stalked towards where the Team sat - the eyes of most of the school on him. They had been observing the two Hufflepuff’s while pretending not to notice the ‘budding romance’ but now at the appearance of the second Sam scratched their heads, not all of them having a Hermione to tell them how that sort of stuff worked.

“I’ll uh… see you later Clarence,” ‘Dean’ stood, grabbing his bag. “See you Saturday remember? We’ll go someplace romantic and make gooey faces at each other all day!” he called over his shoulder, sounding a bit more like Meg, sprinting out of the hall. Castiel was left sitting there, confused, lips slightly swollen.

“Is Dean… okay?” he turned to the others, and they exchanged glances before mutually deciding to leave Dean to explain this one to him.

“He just had stuff to do,” Adam gave the angel a strained grin. “He spotted this plasma screen TV he really liked and well… you know him… can’t find an honest job to save his life…”

Castiel frowned. “That’s unhealthy.” He looked to where Dean had vanished.

“Hey Crowley,” Sam leaned on a table, smirking down at where his double had just morphed back into his usual form with bubbling skin. He now wore robes that were too large and when he stood, he tripped over the fabric. “So?” Sam asked, “How was it, being me for a day?”

“It sucked,” Crowley snapped, trying to gather up the fabric without making it look like he was wearing a dress. “You’re too bloody tall.” He had several visible bruises on his forehead along with a cut on his cheek from his stair jumping experience. The rest of the school had turned away by now, assuming some spell had gone wrong producing two Sam’s. The lack of a second Dean meant that most of them were now firmly convinced of the two Hufflepuff’s not-so-secret love affair.

“Where is Dean?” Sam frowned. “He’s not still tied up in a closet somewhere?”

Crowley looked slightly worried then. “He… uh… there are a lot of closets. I’ll remember which one. Eventually…”

Gabriel fell off his stool at that point because he was laughing so hard. Jo was currently checking the camera she had stolen from Colin Creevey had in fact developed a picture of Cass and Meg!Dean mid kiss, and was now looking like a smug cat that had caught that damn yellow Tweety bird.

It turned out that Dean didn’t need rescuing from the closet like Rapunzel from a tower. He had rescued himself and gone to shower and change with the plan to hunt down Meg. After discovering what Meg had done to his pile of weapons, he decided that maybe that could wait, and went down to find the others.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” the blonde fairy was brave enough to sneer at him as he walked down to the end of the dinner.

“Who..?” Dean frowned, glaring at the kid who took the opportunity to run. Shrugging, Dean continued to try and find something to eat. He’d been locked in that cupboard all day dammit.

“Dean!” he practically ran into Sam who was looking frantic. “Oh thank god. Crowley told us we’d have to search every closet from here to the Astronomy tower.”

“Crowley?” Dean asked. “You mean Crowley was in on this too? And you were stuck in a closet… dude no…”

“Crowley and Meg… they…”

“Oh come on!” Dean clenched his fist. Some girls walking past giggled and he turned to Sam. “And how come the whole school keeps asking me if I’m gay.”

“Oh… no reason..?” Sam shrugged, but his reply was a bit too hesitant.

“There you are!” Jo skipped towards them, “Oh this is great, brilliant… hey Dean look at…” Dean would never find out what she wanted to show him for Sam intercepted her.

Castiel slipped past her. “Hey man,” Dean sighed in relief. “Everything’s gone all screwy. Please tell me you’re normal.”

Cass was staring at him with great curiosity, and it almost appeared as if he had a great fascination with Dean’s lips. “I am normal.” He replied. “Are you going to kiss me again?”

“Yeah, I’m great.” Dean replied, running a hand through his hair and then freezing. “Wait… what? Kiss you? I never… that was…” he looked nervously at Cass. “You do realise that was Meg, right?”

Castiel frowned, wondering if Dean was ill. Sam, still fighting Jo for the photo, just wondered if Castiel was completely oblivious to the whole ‘Meg was being Dean’ thing or whether the angel just didn’t care… “Do you still wish to follow through with the Hogsmeade trip on Saturday?” he asked, as if checking through his options.

“Hogsmeade…” Dean was planning how to kill Meg without any weapons. “Yeah, sure…”

“Great,” Castiel looked a bit more relaxed now. Over where Sam was still trying to rescue something from Jo’s clutches, Gabriel snickered. Dean eyed him warily.

“Going to kiss and make up?” someone wolf whistled in the corridor. Dean blinked, and upon realisation that they were talking about Cass and him, ducked his eyes.

“Oh great,” he groaned. “Meg is so dead…” seemed to be the only thing he could think of. This day couldn’t have gotten any worse.

“Ah, Mr Winchester.”

Or maybe it could.

“Yes Professor,” Dean forced a grin as he turned around to face Professor Snape.

“I have been asked…” here Snape paused, as if to say he had been blackmailed into doing this since none of the other teachers wanted to bring it up, “I have been asked to remind you that public displays of affection are highly discouraged.” He glanced with distaste between Dean and the angel.

“We’re…” Dean was still flustered, “We’re not…” he gestured between them, “That wasn’t me.”

“I’m sure,” Snape drawled. “That whatever explanation you come up with could not possibly be worse than the murmurings I hear from the other student. And while part of me wants to ask, the other part says knowing will be more disturbing than anything I could ever imagine.” And with that he flounced off.

“So does this mean that you and Cass are officially a couple then?” Gabriel asked.

Dean raised one finger in the air threateningly, “I… we’re not… me and Cass aren’t… Oh my God what is wrong with you people?” but upon failing to come up with words gave up and walked away, leaving Castiel confused and maybe slightly hurt and Gabriel in hysterics.

**

Dean and Sam were left dealing with the fallout from that particular trick of Meg and Crowley’s for days afterwards. And not least of all was the very interesting romantic date that Castiel took Dean on.

The other Team members had given them a wide berth that day, and Meg had been expectantly waiting for them to arrive back happily in love. Gabriel had been totally planning on stalking their ‘date’ but he got distracted by trying to steal from the sweet shop, which he was banned from entering upon pain of death. For his endless sweet supply, he had been forced to rely either on Crowley’s black market, the other Team members’ meagre offerings or for Fiddle and Dibby to find food somewhere.

By the end of the day though, Sam had happily announced to Meg that Castiel’s idea of romantic basically meant ‘make Dean happy’ which involved copious amounts of alcohol, pie, Dean teaching the angel how to play pool and poker, and was going to end with a trip to visit the Impala where it was stashed in the village, but that had to be post-phoned when Dean failed to find his keys.

Meg was pissed off, because the pair were still Narnia deep in that closet of theirs. She planned on buying Dean a dictionary for Christmas, with a post-it note in the ‘h’s so he might finally learn what homosexuality meant. Although… maybe she should just point out the fact bisexual existed, considering the amount of girls he flirted with on a daily basis.

“Where are my car keys?” Dean growled at Meg, pissed off for different reasons. “Answer me!”

“Ask nicely,” the brunette mocked.

“Where are my car keys, bitch?” it echoed of a previous conversation they had once had.

“It must be nice,” Meg taunted, “Being such a happy-go-lucky sociopath.”

Dean’s fists clenched and he turned away, pacing to prevent himself from punching her in the face. “Tell me!” he demanded again.

“Calm down sweetheart.”

“Just _tell me_! _Where they are!”_

Sam was currently having vivid flashbacks (“Just tell me who you are!”) to the same scene with him and another demon who had gone from blonde to brunette.

“Or you’ll what..?” Meg smirked.

“Or…” Dean fumbled for an answer, not quite yet ready to admit to the others that his weapons were currently not in their usual state and he was still trying to work out how to return them back to normal. That he now owned a marshmallow gun, a jelly knife and a candy cane angel sword, made him think Gabriel had been let loose in his room, if it wasn’t for the fact his demon killing knife was now a demon killing slice of pastry with apple sauce inside. Dean still couldn’t decide whether to throw the demon killing pie in her face, or eat it and be grateful for the free food.

Or maybe he should trick Meg into eating it and see if demon killing pastry worked. He wondered vaguely if he gave it to Fiddle and Dibby whether the elves could examine the pie and work out the ingredients so he could kill Crowley with some demon killing haggis or whatever the once Scottish dude had eaten.

Sam was currently ignoring Meg and Dean’s usual once-a-week-head-to-head in the favour of examining a homework he certainly had no memory of giving in.

“What that hell did you do Crowley? I got failures for the whole timetable! Did you blow something up in every single class or something?”

**

Unlike their Prank War of ‘96, the battle of wills between the two demons and the two Winchesters of ‘95 was a more subtle affair. Sam and Dean cracked the code to body-swapping before anybody could do it to them, and unleashed the horror on Meg and Crowley.

“After all,” Dean smirked at Meg, who was currently Crowley, as he could see by the red-eyes, “Since you liked being us so much, we figured you’d like trying out what each other’s meat suit’s feel like.”

It came to an end when Crowley somehow got Professor Moody to tell him the spell for transforming people into animals, and then reworded it slightly to fit in with another spell, and tested this untried experiment one morning as the twins were heading to breakfast.

Dean was relieved at least that he wasn’t stuck in a cupboard for the entire day. He wasn’t however happy to be looking up at the world with wide emerald eyes, and when he opened his mouth to complain, all that came out was a pathetic ‘mew’.

There was a squeak from next to him, where the ball of brown fluffy that was Sam tripped and banged his nose against the cold flagstones. Dean opened his mouth again to complain, and once again he only succeeded in ‘meowing’ loudly and plaintively. He shut his jaw was an audible click as the brown kitten that was his brother looked up with hazel eyes.

There was an ‘oh crap’ look that passed between the two Winchesters now turned kittens and then suddenly the floor was falling away from beneath their paws. Dean squirmed, and lashed out with one paw at the hand holding him.

“Dean!” Castiel dropped the indignant cat on the breakfast table. He missed the clear spot, and instead the brown kitten landed in the middle of Jo’s bowl of cereal.

“What the…” Jo avoided the splashing milk and looked at the bedraggled brown tabby. Castiel put Sam down more gently, the younger brother a long haired cat who seemed to be allergic to his own fur, for he kept sneezing periodically and with a pathetic, startled look on his little kitten face. “Castiel have you rescued another stray animal again?”

“They’re Dean and Sam,” Cass tried to explain. “Crowley hit them with a spell and took off. I tried to reverse it, but he’s changed it somehow.”

Jo helped Dean out of her rice crispies, using a corner of the tablecloth to mop up the bedraggled brown form. Dean tried to clean himself off with a small pink tongue, but after tasting his own fur pulled a disgusted face which looked all too cute on the small animal.

“Great,” Jo sighed. “I’ll take them to Professor McGonagall.” She said, preparing to scoop them up. She pulled her hand back as Sam’s ears flattened and Dean bared his little kitten fangs. “Or not... Listen guys do you want to go back to normal or not?”

The pair looked disgruntled. Jo couldn’t help but let out a small ‘aw’ because the cuteness factor of the two usually scary hunters had just been ramped up a lot.

They were both tabby, although Sam was a darker shade of brown than Dean with longer fur. He also had a series of dark, murky stripes running across his back, while Dean’s patterned fur was paler. The latter also had a white chest and paws, along with one white splash on his left shoulder, which as Jo looked, reminded her vaguely of a handprint…

For that matter, they both had a series of speckles on their chests in the same place, which seemed to form a circular star.

“Castiel you tell them,” she sighed, not wanting to risk the kittens’ anger, cute as it was.

Dean’s ears pricked and he walked over with wobbly legs to the angel, pausing only to snag a piece of Adam’s bacon on the way, ignoring his little brother’s complaints.

“I’ll get the teacher,” Jo sighed, standing up, pausing for a moment to watch as Dean jumped awkwardly to Castiel’s shoulder, and seemingly finding it comfortable, curled up there. Sam meanwhile had decided to annoy Crowley’s partner in crime, and was padding all over the book Meg was trying to read, ignoring her attempts to bat them off.

Gabriel currently had the camera, and both kittens paused when the flash went off. Jo hurried off, hiding a smile as she searched for the Transfiguration teacher.

After that incident, it was mutually decided to end all attempts to sabotage each other’s lives. Original aim achieved, the demons now got on (at least when working towards a mutual goal), and Sam and Dean were still freakily co-dependant. Castiel was relieved that he had survived relatively unscathed, and Meg was pissed that he and Dean were still blinder than earthworms (since of course every demon knows that bats aren’t blind).

**

It was a regular occurrence throughout their years at Hogwarts for Sam and Dean to take a trip out on a weekend taking Adam with them. Despite her various arguments, they refused to take Jo, and when she taunted them that it was only because they were ‘afraid of her mother’ Dean had nodded and agreed unanimously.

That was how Adam got trained to be a hunter. Well… that and various lessons in the Room of Requirement.

Gabriel was witness to one of these lessons, a scene in the Room of Requirement, which involved a chalkboard and a long list, entitled ‘How Not to Die’ by S.W.D.W.

1: Don’t sell your soul to a demon. Or any angels named Balthazar.

2: Don’t go within a ten mile radius of a crossroads, even if you do have the King of Hell on your payroll.

3: Don’t work with any faith healers. Especially not faith healers who enslave a reaper

4: If a pretty girl named Tessa asks you to go with her, your answer is always no.

5: Don’t let Sam drive. He’ll let your car get t-boned by a semi.

6: If you find yourself in a psychic kid death match – GET OUT OF THERE. If you can’t, then whatever you do, don’t leave your enemy lying on the mud behind you with a knife.

7: Don’t go near any cages.

8: Don’t say yes to an archangel. Or any angel. They’re all dicks. Except Cass. YES THAT INCLUDES YOU GABRIEL!

9: Don’t trust your soulless brother not to let you get turned into a vampire. Even if there is a cure that now conveniently exists.

10: Don’t piss off other hunters.

11: Hellhounds = Bad

12: Kill the ghouls before they kill you. And eat you.

13: Don’t be a Winchester.

14: Don’t be related to John Winchester.

15: Have an angel conveniently located to heal you and/or bring you back to life.

16: Don’t start the Apocalypse.

17: Stay away from Broward Country. Especially on a Tuesday.

18: Wishing wells = BAD

19: Helping out reapers by becoming dead is Not A Good Idea

20: Death likes fast food. Don’t piss him off.

By the time it was finished, it took up three chalk boards. Crowley stared at it in disgust before remarking that ‘the Winchester practically had a get-out-of-death-free card, so why bother avoiding it?’ Adam didn’t find the lesson terrible helpful and added another point.

21: If you ever meet two idiots called Sam and Dean Winchester, pretend you never met them and pray for salvation. Don’t pray to the angels though. Or any demons. Or the devil. Or any pagan gods. Or God. Basically find an iron and salt lined panic room and prepare to live the rest of your life there.

Gabriel added his own observation.

22: Don’t have sex with Sam Winchester. In fact don’t even look at him that way. OR YOU DIE!!!!!!!!

Despite the unhealthy amount of exclamation marks, even Sam had to admit that was sadly true.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Reading Changing Circumstances](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2201733) by [The_Bearer_Of_Secrets](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Bearer_Of_Secrets/pseuds/The_Bearer_Of_Secrets)




End file.
